


Parenthood

by storytellerof221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Baby-sitting, Bondage, M/M, Parenthood, Rough Sex, sex-games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:35:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23173264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b
Summary: Sherlock doesn't know a lot about babies but he is Rosamunde's godfather and one day he just has to take over.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter One

Sherlock stared at little Rosie. He was desperate. Lost, lonely, and desperate. Only why had he agreed to baby-sit this horrid creature? He swallowed and had to lick his parched lips.

John had asked him late last night. He had to take over a shift for a sick colleague. Sherlock had been performing a complicated experiment and was just writing down something. He had only agreed to John so he would go away.  
That’s why he was very surprised when John dashed into his room this very morning and dropped the baby on his bed. He looked between Rosamund and John but didn’t utter a word. John’s eyes darkened.  
“You promised!” Then he pointed his finger at him and left. Sherlock stared at the closed door and then at the baby. Rosie pulled a face and started to scream.  
Sherlock wasn’t holding any grudge against the baby, not at all. He dearly loved John and would do almost anything for him. But a baby? What was he supposed to do? Why did he agree to the task? He obviously hadn’t paid any attention to what John wanted.

Sherlock chewed on his lips. By now Rosamund had stopped screaming. She was twitching and trying to reach out for him. Sherlock had no experience at all with babies or any other sized children. He sighed.  
But then he thought that John must trust him with her. Only why would he? He knew him better than anyone.

Suddenly his attention was on the baby again because she had managed to grab one of his long fingers. She made happy noises and held on. Perhaps it wasn’t too difficult? Perhaps it would be easier to please her as he had thought.  
By now Sherlock hadn’t yet showered or even had his coffee. He had no idea what to do. Should he take her with him and shower her, too? Perhaps she would drown in the tub? What was he supposed to do?

And what happened when she was hungry? How should he ever know when to feed her? And God beware, what about changing her diaper?  
He wondered whom he could ask while still sitting in bed. Mrs Hudson was visiting her sister. Molly was a damn pathologist and only had a cat. Lestrade had children but they were with their mother and teenagers. He probably couldn’t remember.

Mycroft. He knew that his brother had taken care of him when he was a child. He should know what to do and if he didn’t, he could summon someone who did. Pleased with his decision he got out of bed which only got her screaming again.  
He wondered if he should talk to her even though he knew she didn’t understand a thing. He sighed and looked at her.

Suddenly he thought of YouTube. He had learnt the thing with the serviettes on YouTube. He could learn other stuff, baby stuff, there, too. The tablet still was on his night-stand and he powered it up. He scanned the videos regarding feeding, how to prepare a bottle and changing. The last item made him pull a face and he looked at the bag John had dropped inside his room.  
“Well, it’s adventure time for you now, Rosamund.” He got out of bed and picked her up, too. He gently placed her on the rug in front of the tub while he showered. She had stopped crying and was clawing into the fabric. Some water splashed onto her and she hugely smiled up at him.  
He carried her around with him and finally managed to get dressed. He drank his coffee and called his brother when he was finally looking as impeccable as always. Mycroft picked up only after several rings.  
“What do you want? I am busy!” He answered being very much annoyed.  
“You can rule the world later. I need your help.” Sherlock replied and he could hear him raising his brow.  
“You need my help? What happened? Dear me, I need to record this. Please say it again, brother-mine!” He chuckled.  
“Please, I am serious and it is not about me. John left Rosamund with me because he had to take a colleague’s shift. Now I am stuck with her and I don’t know what she needs.” He freely admitted that.  
“I see, brother-dear. How very responsible of you to ask for help. Well, DI Lestrade is here right now and I am sure he would be the right person to ask in this matter.” Sherlock smirked but refrained from commenting.  
“May I come over then?” He asked instead.  
“Sure thing. We’ll be waiting.” He hung up and looked at the baby some more. She rested on the sofa and gurgled happily.  
He needed to dress her even though they were going by cab. He looked around and found the harness John was often using hanging at the door. He also found a woollen hat and a little jacket. He looked for shoes but wasn’t able to find them. So, he instead took two socks of his own and folded them several times. He had been listening to John when he told Molly about keeping her always warm. He was glad he hadn’t deleted these fragments already because he actually only wanted to hear John’s voice.  
He held the harness and wondered if he should put it on first and then shove the baby inside or the other way around.  
“Damn your daddy …” He muttered and Rosamund shrieked joyfully from down below. Finally, he had arranged the harness, Rosamund and his Belstaff. He took the bag and just wanted to leave when his mobile dinged.

_“I bet John has left a bottle or two for her. Take them with you.”  
GL_

Sherlock snorted but turned around. He looked into the fridge and really found two bottles. He stuffed them into his coat and finally left. Rosamund hung in front of his chest and it felt utterly nice and warm. Not that he would ever admit that. But she was warm and even smelled nice. It was a good feeling and he enjoyed it.

Standing in front of 221B for a second, he even enjoyed the wondrous looks from people passing by. Women and men both smiled at him because of the baby. He thought of taking her out more often when being on a case. It obviously made him untouchable and very, very inconspicuous.  
But probably John wouldn’t like the idea so he made a mental note to google dolls looking like real babies.

Since he enjoyed carrying her along quite a lot he decided against a cab and started to walk. Suddenly his mobile dinged again and he checked the display.

_“Where are you? What happened?”  
MH_

They probably worried he might have lost her. He snorted and typed his answer.

_“Is CCTV off? I am walking. Nothing happened. I’ll be there in about 20 minutes. No need to worry.”  
SH_

There wasn’t a reply and he happily strolled along.


	2. Chapter Two

Sherlock reached Mycroft’s townhouse and opened the gate. He climbed up the four stairs to the main door and knocked. Rosamund threw her tiny arms around and yelled at things only she could see. Sherlock had started to like it because it annoyed other people.  
Gregory Lestrade opened the door and at once took a picture with his mobile.  
“You look good, Sherlock. Come on in.” He stepped aside and Sherlock entered his brother’s home.  
“Is Kurt off duty or on holiday?” He asked but right then said Kurt, the butler, stepped up.  
“Mr Holmes, the younger. Welcome! DI Lestrade was faster since my way to the door was longer. Your brother awaits you in the salon, Sir.”  
“Thank you, Kurt. I know the way.” He started to walk deeper into the house.  
“But your coat, Sir?” Kurt asked but Sherlock shook his head.  
“Never mind!” Greg just followed and started to film him. Sherlock turned his head but didn’t stop him. He took the two bottles out and placed his coat over the back of the sofa. Only then he took Rosamund off the harness and sat her on his lap while he sat in an armchair. He made her face the room so she could see both his brother and Lestrade. Curiously she looked around while Sherlock held her on his lap.  
“See the stupid person over there? That’s Greg and he is filming us. Wave to him and yell something!” She tried to look at Sherlock because she knew his voice. Then he started to wave and yell and she soon followed. Greg had the time of his life filming everything while Mycroft just stood at his desk.  
“And this is my brother Mycroft. He rules this country but he isn’t a King. But you can call him Myc. Some people do. Wave to him, too!” She threw her tiny arms around.  
“It seems you are having quite the fun all of a sudden being a nanny, dear brother. What was the problem again?” Mycroft stepped up slowly and went down on his knees in front of Sherlock looking at the baby. He carefully took her hand and moved his thumb over the skin.  
“Hallo, Rosamund. Are you hungry or need a change? What did this insane man do to you, hm?” She broadly grinned and stared at him out of wide, blue eyes. John’s eyes, Sherlock thought.  
Greg lowered his head, too, while still filming, and then turned the mobile to film himself in front of them all.  
“I believe she is in need of a new diaper. We will now be seeing the Holmes brothers changing a baby!” He broadly grinned and turned the mobile back on both Mycroft and Sherlock.  
Mycroft took the baby from his brother’s lap and Sherlock picked up the bag. Then they stood for a few seconds and didn’t know where to go.  
“We can stay here. Greg, please be so kind and hand over that blanket over there.” Greg did just that and Mycroft placed her on top of it and started to undress her. Sherlock knelt by his side and wondered if she would be screaming at him. But she didn’t. His eyes met Mycroft’s and they smiled at each other. Greg kept filming.  
Mycroft rolled up his sleeves and did change her very professionally. Sherlock was surprised. Rosamund had snatched Mycroft’s finger and held on tight. Greg would have wanking fodder for days on end having this on film. A film showing Mycroft changing John’s daughter still clad in his three-piece-suit and it didn’t even look strange. Greg found it extremely sexy and a massive turn on.  
“Did you bring a bottle?” Mycroft asked. His free hand scratched her tummy and she made happy noises. Sherlock stood.  
“Yes, I did. John prepared them. They were in the fridge.”  
“I am sure they aren’t contaminated, are they, Sherlock?” Greg asked from behind his mobile and Sherlock talked directly into it.  
“Of course not. The insane scientist’s flatmate made a special place in the fridge for baby-stuff. So, there’s no need to worry.” He smirked after this and Greg giggled.  
“Go and heat them up in the microwave.” Sherlock looked at his brother.  
“How warm?” He asked and Mycroft looked up.  
“You don’t want to burn the poor baby’s throat, do you, brother-dear?” He asked.  
“Of course not!” He dashed away into the kitchen with Greg on his heels. Again, he spoke into the camera himself.  
“We are now watching a new experiment called _“The Fascinating Heating of The Famous Bottle”_. Sherlock opened the microwave always being filmed by Greg. He placed the bottle inside and closed the door. He heated it up and stood before it so Greg couldn’t film the temperature. But when it dinged Greg just said:  
“Hold it against your cheek. If it feels too hot, cool it down with cold water. You’ll do fine.” Sherlock smiled and tested the bottle. He deemed it just fine but held it against Greg’s skin, as well. Greg nodded and they returned to Mycroft.

Greg stared at Mycroft who rested on his back on the hardwood and held Rosamund up over his body. She shrieked with joy and he moved her from side to side. He smiled stupidly and Sherlock took the mobile from his hands.  
“We are watching the King of Britain manhandling an innocent child. She will probably throw up soon.” He smirked.  
“She won’t. You never did and she looks like she likes this.” Rosamund shrieked in reply and drooled on his face.  
“You are doing perfectly fine. Don’t listen to your brother.” Greg said lovingly and knelt by his side. They looked at each other and then Greg lowered his head and kissed him on the forehead.  
“Now the King’s not so secret lover gets to kiss the King and right in front of an innocent child. Impossible behaviour. I will inform the Captain about it.” He once moved around the group until he fell down by their side.  
“We should tell John to come here and pick you up.” Greg suggested toying with Rosamunde’s foot. Both of them were trying to pull the socks off.  
“Why?” Sherlock asked watching one of his socks disappear into her mouth.  
“We could spend the time together until he gets home; only if you like?” Greg asked looking at Sherlock and Mycroft both. The brothers exchanged a look Greg yet hadn’t seen but it looked fine. He smiled.  
“Just give me the bottle. She needs to eat.” Mycroft said and Sherlock handed it over. She greedily sucked and finished rather quickly. Greg also provided a kitchen-towel so she wouldn’t burp on the expensive garment.  
“Mr Holmes, Sir, Ms Anthea is here to see you.” Kurt had entered the salon and stared at the scene in front of him.  
“Let her in, Kurt.” Mycroft said and smiled up at him. Kurt didn’t answer but turned around and they heard steps coming up. Anthea arrived and at once stood beside her boss looking a bit irritated.  
“Mr Holmes, I didn’t expect this. I need to inform you that your appointment with the Prime Minister has been re-scheduled. You will be meeting him this afternoon at 2.30 pm.” Rosamund tried to reach her trouser clad legs and she made a careful step to the side.  
“No, I won’t. I am busy. Tell him whatever.” Mycroft answered to everyone’s surprise.  
“But, Sir!” She looked and sounded shocked and their eyes met. After a quick exchange she smiled and just nodded.  
“Very well, Sir. I will re-schedule and mail it over to your account. Have a nice day, all of you!” She turned around.  
“You, too, Anthea.” Greg politely replied and Sherlock just dismissed her with a flick of his wrist. The door was closed and Rosamund by now laid on Mycroft’s chest staring up at his face.  
“Your bones poke into her tiny body, brother-mine. Hand her over!” Sherlock said and tried to pick her up.  
“No, I want to hold her now. Please?” Greg asked and reached out for her. Mycroft handed her over to him.  
“Sure thing, love. Here you go. Sherlock, you have her all the time. Give her to Greg for a bit.” Sherlock huffed. He felt jealous.

Hold on. Jealous? Annoying feelings. He looked at his brother who just smiled like a snake. Sherlock cast his eyes and knew that he knew. It had happened too fast. This morning he had been terribly afraid of taking care of her. Now he didn’t want to let go of her anymore. What the fuck was happening?

Greg by now threw her up and caught her again several times. Both of them were yelling and had fun. Suddenly he stood with her.  
“We could go outside and let her play on the lawn. You have that smallish back-yard. Let’s get tea or something and sit there.” He suggested and Mycroft stood up, as well.  
“I will ring for Kurt to prepare tea and cookies.” Sherlock stood, as well.  
“No, just go. I’ll take care of it.”  
“What?” Both Greg and Mycroft asked staring at him.  
“Why not? I am perfectly capable of doing it. Just wait and see!” He dashed outside and into the kitchen. Kurt wasn’t there. Sherlock put the kettle on and put tea into mugs to brew. He also found cookies and a cake. He smirked and arranged everything on a wooden tray.  
“But Sir, you are not supposed to do this!” Kurt appeared behind his back and Sherlock looked over his shoulder.  
“No, it’s all fine, Kurt. Just let me do this. We are outside in the back-yard if my over-important brother is needed.”  
“Very well, Sir.” A small smile was on his lips. He was happy about the fact that for once Sherlock was nice to Mycroft.  
Sherlock carried the tray outside and placed it on the table. He looked around. There was a larger table and a bench, two chairs and even a sunshade. He raised a brow.  
“Since when you are the outdoor-type?” He asked and opened the shade.  
“Since Greg. He likes it here and found all the furniture in the basement.” Sherlock poured tea and sorted out their plates.  
“What about Rosamund? Shouldn’t she have something?” Sherlock asked and Greg stood grinning. He went inside and returned with a bottle of canned cream.  
“Are you sure this is for eating purpose?” Sherlock innocently asked and Mycroft snorted. He sprayed some on her tiny hand and had her lick it. She obviously liked it and Greg repeated it but then he was filming it, too.  
“John won’t like this.” Mycroft assumed and Sherlock nodded shoving cake into his mouth.  
“No, he won’t. But he doesn’t need to know.” Greg said handing her a cookie on which she happily sucked.  
“But you can’t withhold all the films you have made. He will love it!” Sherlock said.  
“Let’s make another film!” Greg suggested. Suddenly Mycroft stood.  
“I have an idea!” He walked up to the one and only tree in his back-yard and reached up into some branches. Then there was a swing. Suddenly Sherlock remembered it. He had been swinging here when he was younger. All alone. But he had always liked it. He slowly stood and reached his brother by the tree. They looked at each other and finally smiled broadly. Then Sherlock even hugged him a bit clumsily.  
“Just don’t try to do the full round this time with Rosamund, please?” Mycroft said quietly and Sherlock shook his head.  
“No, of course not!” He hurried back to Greg and took her from him. She curiously looked up at him when he carried her over and sat back on the swing. Slowly he started to move and increased the speed by moving back and forth.  
Soon she started to shriek. She liked it and Sherlock beamed. Greg filmed it and Mycroft stood close by to protect both Sherlock and Rosamund.


	3. Chapter Three

John had finished his shift and was very, very hungry. He had had no time for lunch because it had been a bloody busy day. Bloody in the words truest sense. Anyway, he took his mobile to text Sherlock and ask if he liked take-away. He found a text from Sherlock already waiting. He opened it and read:

_“I have taken Rosamund over to Mycroft. Come and join us!”  
SH_

He smiled. Sherlock probably had had problems managing the baby but he didn’t mind she was taken over to Mycroft. Greg was probably there, too. He entered the tube and rode over. The butler opened the door for him.  
“Dr Watson, please do come in.” He made an inviting gesture and John entered Mycroft’s place.  
“Sherlock texted me he had come over with our daughter.” John said and blushed when he realised that he had said our instead of my. But Kurt hadn’t seemed to notice.  
“The party is outside by now. Just go straight through and follow the noise.” John raised a brow and started to walk. He hoped there would be tea and perhaps some cookies.  
And now he stood in the door to Mycroft’s back-yard and watched three men and a baby having fun. Sherlock was holding her and was swinging rather high. Greg held his mobile and filmed and Mycroft stood by and watched so nothing would happen. John smiled. This was wonderful. It felt like family. He sighed.  
Then he just sat on the bench and ate a cookie. No one noticed him until Kurt appeared with fresh tea and a cup for him. He also brought more cookies.  
“There you are, Dr Watson.” John happily accepted the tea.  
“Thank you, Kurt.” He left again and John kept watching. It was such a sight; Sherlock with their, his, daughter. But it just looked too good. And somehow it was their daughter. Sherlock was in fact Rosamunde’s godfather but he also was so much more.

John’s feelings for Sherlock had increased from the moment he had seen him holding their, his, baby in his arms. It hadn't occurred too often and it had always looked rather awkward but Sherlock had never denied John when he was given the baby. And John had loved the sight. He loved the sight.

And by now he was always watching when John fed her, sang her to bed, tell her stupid stories and read to her. John was able to see that she recognised Sherlock as well as him. She reacted to his voice and his presence. And she adored him. So did John.

He sighed and wished Sherlock wouldn’t only watch and by looking at them now it seemed the time had come. He sighed some more and finally stood. He slowly walked over until he got acknowledged. Greg grinned and yelled:  
“Daddy is home! Behave!” Sherlock slowly swung out. His cheeks were red and Rosamund looked unhappy when the swinging stopped. But then she saw John, too, and waved at him, making noises, too. He picked her up.  
“There you are, my love. Do you need to throw up? What did this insane bunch do to you? Hm?” He gently swung her on his arms and her eyes were huge while she drooled and babbled up to him.  
“John.” Sherlock said nothing more but it was enough. He looked somehow happy. Both Greg and Mycroft were able to see it.  
“We have loads of funny films to show you.” Greg said.  
“Or not.” Mycroft said. Now John looked up.  
“What did you do then? And is this cream?” He carefully scratched at her skin. No one answered this.  
“She is fine. Just a bit spoiled.” Greg said.  
“She had a splendid time.” Mycroft added.  
“So had we.” Sherlock seriously said. John was surprised and met his eyes.  
“She looks well.” Now Sherlock looked a bit angry. Or sad? Maybe both.  
“Of course, she does. What do you think?” He stormed inside and disappeared.  
“Sherlock!” He called after him but he didn’t return. He sighed.  
“I meant it as a compliment.” Greg came closer.  
“But he isn’t used to compliments, is he?” John wondered looking at Greg who added carefully:  
“He is to yours. He likes it. But this is new. Let’s wait him out. He won’t leave.” Mycroft added.  
“No, I need to go after him. I need to reassure him that he did perfectly right with Rosamund. We’ll be right back.” John disappeared inside, too, holding her on his arms. Now Greg sat on the swing and moved back and forth. Mycroft lovingly smiled at him.

***

John finally found Sherlock in the kitchen nibbling Mycroft’s hidden nosh. His lips were dark from chocolate and his cheeks were wet. For once Sherlock hadn’t noticed his approach. He was buried too deep inside his mind palace.  
John chewed on his lower lip when seeing that. He had been right to follow him. He stepped up and only when Rosamund made a noise Sherlock quickly turned around and instinctively wiped over his eyes.  
“Sherlock, please don’t. You have been fantastic. I am sure she loved it. It wasn’t meant as if I don’t trust you with her; because I do trust you with her. I wouldn’t have made you godfather if I wouldn’t. And I am sorry if it sounded too surprised. It wasn’t meant like that.”  
“It sounded wrong …” Sherlock said softly looking at John.  
“I am sorry. Now please blow your nose and hold her again because I need to eat.” Sherlock quickly did just that and watched John eating some slices of bread with butter. Right then Kurt appeared again.  
“Dr Watson, please let me.” John turned around.  
“No, no, it’s all good. I am done anyway. We will have a proper dinner later at Baker Street.” Kurt sighed and looked annoyed.  
“OK, let’s move outside again. I want to watch all the films Greg made.” John announced. Outside Sherlock sat on the lawn leaning against the tree and Rosamund fell asleep on his long legs. And only by watching her sleep he dozed off, too.  
“Look at him now. He is exhausted. He tried so hard to do it right.” Greg whispered leaning against Mycroft.  
“And he did. I talked to him inside and he had been crying.” John added and now Greg looked shocked.  
“My little brother does have emotions, no matter how hard he tries to delete them. And he loves Rosamund and John.” John’s head snapped up.  
“What?” John asked getting a bit louder. Everyone looked towards Sherlock but he didn’t wake properly.  
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Mycroft said after a few seconds. Greg slowly nodded.  
“Yes, even to me it is. The way you look at him when he deduces things on my crime scenes. Plus, the way he looks at you when you wear that jumper with the dark stripes.”  
“Are you telling me I am fangirling after him?” John asked.  
“I would have used other words, but yes I am telling you exactly that.” Mycroft replied. John shrank back against the bench and looked at Sherlock. Mycroft searched for Greg’s hand and their fingers entangled. Greg smiled.  
In the meantime, John tried to analyse his feelings for his flatmate, the Consulting Detective aka Consulting Babysitter.

***

Sherlock only woke from his day-dreams when Rosamund fell off his body because he had moved in his sleep. She fell onto the lawn and started to scream being very much displeased about it.  
He shot up and rubbed over his tired eyes. His eyes came to rest on her when she clawed at the green and tried to move. She almost made it up and he felt somehow proud. He helped her and stood up. She calmed down at once. Then he smelled it.  
“She needs another change.” Mycroft wanted to get up but Sherlock held him back.  
“No, I can do it. I watched you and can do it better now.” He disappeared inside again and now no one followed.  
“What does he mean by doing it better now?” Mycroft asked and John grinned.  
“Well, the first time I asked him for help he just took away the used diaper and was too lazy to get a fresh one from the changing-table because it is upstairs in my room. Too far away, you know? So, he just took my shirt that was hanging over the backrest of the sofa and knotted it around her. I wasn’t very amused.”  
“But it worked?” Greg asked.  
“Yes, it did. Absolutely. I haven’t had checked what he had done and only saw it later when I wanted to feed her the bottle.” John replied.  
“What did you do then?” Mycroft wanted to know.  
“I didn’t tell him off but I gave him the Captain look. He knows that look and shrugged it off rather quickly. And you know, I didn’t mind. It worked, that’s the main thing. And I am happy that he copes with her and I didn’t have to move out.” John sounded very thoughtful.  
“He would have never let you go, John.” Greg said very assuring.  
“I don’t know …” John slowly shook his head.  
“It can’t go on forever. She will grow up and needs her own room.” John quietly said.  
“Then finally admit that you want him and move into his bedroom.” Mycroft said. John furiously blushed.  
“God, John. You really are adorable.” Greg laughed.  
“But I am …” He wanted to give them his “not-being-gay-speech” but they wouldn’t hear any of it.  
“Please, John. You are possible not gay but you are bi. I have read your file.” John blushed even more.  
“There is a file about my sex-life?” His voice was going over the edge.  
“There are files about everything, John aka “Three-Continents-Watson”.” Mycroft smirked.  
“Bloody hell …” John muttered. Right then Sherlock came back holding a much happier and fresher smelling baby.  
“I’d like to go home now. Are you coming?” Sherlock asked John. He stood at once.  
“Sure.” Then he looked at Mycroft.  
“Thanks for having us over and the wonderful afternoon.” He smiled and Mycroft just waved it off.  
“See you, mate.” Greg said. Even Sherlock waved good-bye and they went inside to get the harness and their coats. They took a cab back home where Sherlock at once fell on the sofa with Rosamund on his chest. John smiled.  
He prepared dinner while his beloved slept a bit. He took a picture and added it to the ones Greg had already sent him.


	4. Chapter Four

Sherlock got the call from Mycroft in the afternoon. He was busy experimenting while Rosamund sat on the rug in front of the sofa. He had given her some old socks and she was happily biting and drooling on them. At first, he had tried to ignore it but it was ringing constantly and won’t go to mailbox. Probably Mycroft had done something to it. Again. He sighed and answered it.  
“Mycroft, what is it? I am busy!” There was a long exhale and Sherlock straightened up. Something was very wrong.  
“It’s John, Sherlock. He had an accident and is in hospital now.” Sherlock turned and looked at Rosamund.  
“What happened? How is he?” He roughly asked.  
“He was run over by a car during lunch-break. CCTV showed that he pushed away his colleague but wasn’t fast enough to jump himself. He has some broken bones and a severe head-injury. They put him into an artificial coma.” Mycroft knew better than to make it sound less horrid. Sherlock needed all the facts.  
“Can I see him? And can I bring Rosamund?” He still stared at her and now she stared back biting on a sock. She clearly sensed his uneasiness.  
“I took the freedom to arrange a private hospital. A car will be picking you and Rosamund up in half an hour.”  
“Thank you, Mycroft.” Sherlock hung up and exhaled shuddering all over.  
“Fuck!” He yelled suddenly and threw his mug against the kitchen wall. Rosamund started to cry at once. Sherlock sobbed and raked his fingers through his hair.  
“I have to stay calm. Rosamund needs me now. I have to take over.” He whispered the words repeatedly. He needed ten minutes until he was ready to change from his comfy clothes into a suit and make Rosamund ready. He was done when the door-bell rang. He had put her into a baby- bouncer so he could fasten a seat-belt around it. He also thought to take the baby-bag and hurried downstairs.  
Mycroft had sent Anthea which Sherlock appreciated. She knew him and wouldn’t talk nonsense or even at all. She just rode with him and stayed at his side. After their arrival she led him into the building and Sherlock just followed her. He was actually happy that he had Rosamund and he both bodily and mentally clung to her. They stopped in front of John’s room.  
“I’ll be waiting right here if you need anything.” He closed his eyes for a second.  
“Thank you, Anthea. I appreciate you being here.” She thinly smiled and sat on a chair by the door. At once she concentrated back on her mobile and started to type, probably telling Mycroft they had arrived.  
Sherlock straightened up and quietly opened the door. At once a quiet but insistent beeping filled his ears. He was familiar with that because he had often been in hospital after having overdosed.  
He placed the bouncer on the table and slowly approached the bed. His eyes roamed over the sheets and John’s body beneath it. He looked so small and very pale in the bed. The horrible light in here didn’t help. Loads of cables and tubes led into his body and out. He wore one of those ugly hospital gowns and Sherlock carefully reached out to touch his head where several patches were attached and some hair had been shaved off.  
His long and spidery fingers very gently moving over John’s forehead. Sherlock noticed that his skin was very dry.  
“John, I am here and so is Rosamund. Please don’t worry, OK? I will take care of her and everything else. I will even clean the flat and do the washing. But it would be convenient if you’d wake soon. Please? John?” He pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to cry because he was convinced it would affect Rosamund.

Next, he checked on his file that stuck by the bed. He knew he wasn’t family but Mycroft would have taken care of that disturbing fact. He read it very concentrated and found he had no internal organs damaged or some such things. He had some broken bones and for sure his limp would return. His head would hurt for quite a while, too, but he had suffered nothing that wouldn’t heal after some good rest. And Sherlock would see to that. He would do anything needed.  
And finally, he just placed Rosamund by his side for a bit. She at once tried to cling to John and pulled herself closer. John though didn’t react. Even when her tiny hands shoved at him and started to box him a bit he wouldn’t wake.  
“Don’t do this, dear. You’ll hurt your daddy. He will wake up soon, OK? We will visit him again tomorrow. For now, we will leave and I will take over. It’s nothing serious so you don’t have to worry.” He spoke to her very quietly and she calmed down hearing his voice. He placed her back in the bouncer and strapped her in. At last he gently and secretly pecked a kiss on John’s forehead and left.

***

That evening and night Sherlock didn’t get any rest. Rosamund was crying and wailing because she missed John. Every noise outside got a reaction out of her and her little head turned towards it.  
Sherlock really tried everything. He started to read from a baby-book, he sang a lullaby, he carried her around while singing and reciting the before mentioned book. But nothing helped, Rosamund kept crying. Later on, when John of course didn’t appear; she started screaming until she got hoarse.

Sherlock was in tears by morning. He hadn’t slept a minute and had dark rings under his eyes. He tried to feed her the bottle but she didn’t want to eat. She was pushing the bottle away from her tiny mouth.  
“Honey, you have to eat. Please? John will kill me if you starve. Please?” He tried repeatedly until his eyes were burning hot with tears again. Right then Mrs Hudson appeared.  
“Sherlock, what’s going on? Is she sick? God, how are you looking! Where is John?” She came closer and Sherlock couldn’t help it anymore. He started to cry. She took Rosamund and soothed her. She sat by his side on the sofa and soothed him, too. It took him several minutes until he was able to explain what had happened to John.  
“Oh, I see. Well, of course she misses him. She doesn’t understand. Right now, I am offering a solution for the moment. Not the best and we won’t tell John about it but I am sure it will make her eat.”  
“Whatever. Just do it.” Sherlock sobbed out the words. Mrs Hudson returned Rosamund into his arms and took the bottle. She poured some sugar on a small plate and wet the nook. She covered it into the sugar and handed it back to Sherlock. And she started to suck. They repeated the process several times until she had emptied it.  
“I think you should feed her in hospital. John will be there and she will know that.”  
“You are right, of course. Why didn’t I think about it?” He pulled his hair.  
“You, young man, will go and take a shower. I will take care of Rosamund.” Sherlock sighed and smiled.  
“Thank you, Hudders.” She smiled, too. He blew his nose and quickly disappeared into the bath.  
When he returned, she had made breakfast for him. He wrinkled his nose and felt a bit sick but she just pointed at the chair and he obediently sat down. After two bites of toast he devoured everything. Thankfully he looked up at her and smiled. She smiled back still holding the baby.  
“I think I will spend most of the day by John’s side. I will bring the bottles and have the nurses heat it up for her. It shouldn’t be a problem.”  
“I am sure your nosy brother had arranged for her being allowed with a coma-patient for a longer period of time.” He looked up. He hadn’t thought about that at all. And he knew exactly what she meant. He should tell him thank you. And so he would.  
Perhaps he could invite him and Greg for dinner? He wouldn’t be alone then. And Mrs Hudson, of course. It would be a much-needed diversification.  
“Dear boy, what did you do with your socks?” Chewing he looked at the mess Rosamund had made with them. He smiled and swallowed.  
“I only gave her some old ones of mine. She can pull and bite and drool and do whatever she wants. And she seems to like it.” Mrs Hudson sighed and shook her head.  
“Anyway, I already made her ready and packed her bag. I might add some socks now. You should take the pram today and have a walk through the park before you go and see John.”  
“I will do just so.” Sherlock said and stood up. He wanted to clean the table but she shook her head.  
“No, it’s all fine. I’ll take care even though I am not your housekeeper.” He pecked a kiss on her cheek.  
“I love you, Hudders.” She blushed a bit and shook her head.  
“Go now! John needs you.” He nodded and got into his shoes. He took his coat from the hook by the door and wound his scarf around his neck. He took the pram from the closet and carried everything and Rosamund downstairs. She wore a cute jacket and a woollen hat due to the cold. She also wore sneakers Sherlock had bought on a whim. Those were the only shoes she kept on. All the other shoes got pulled off her feet after several minutes and landed on the pavement.  
Sherlock had muttered some words about _cool baby_ but John had just raised his brows. Sherlock smirked. Both men had laughed. It had been Sherlock’s very first attempt to take care of Rosamund.

Now he sighed put kept pushing her through the park. She always sat the other way around so she was able to see outside. Her head was up all the time and her tiny hands were clawing at the edge.  
Sherlock used to run several minutes with her so she had some fun. She liked it a lot and yelled all the time.

He parked the pram on the aisle in front of John’s room. Thanks to Mycroft the nurses didn’t stop him. He knocked, just in case, and entered the room. There actually was a group of people in there; doctors and nurses and also a very awake John.  
Sherlock pressed just through and stood by the bed.  
“John …” He needn’t say more. John relaxed at once and laid back down. The beeping stopped their manic sound and the group exhaled like one.  
“Sherlock …” All the tubes and other stuff had been removed and he was able to speak again even though it still was very rough. Sherlock sat down and turned Rosamund in his arms. The smile on John’s face was priceless and a wave of happiness rolled over Sherlock.  
One by one the people left the room to give them privacy.  
“Don’t worry, OK? I have everything under control. Well, Mycroft has and also Hudders.” Sherlock helplessly shrugged and tears welled up again. John carefully reached out for him.  
“Don’t, please. I know what you are capable of. You will do just fine. I know it.”  
“She is eating my socks, John.” He sniffed and showed him a picture he had made of her while she played with the small pile of socks.  
“You are an impossible man, my impossible man.” John smiled. Now Sherlock smiled, too, and relaxed a bit.  
“Hand her over, please?” Sherlock placed her on the bed beside John. She happily gurgled and Sherlock freed her of her jacket, hat, and shoes. Now she held on to his gown and looked up at him all happy again.  
Sherlock sat on the chair and watched them for a bit until he just nodded off. He woke with a jump when a nurse entered the room with food.  
“Oh dear, I am sorry. I brought some tea for you, too. Would you like me to heat up her bottle?” Sherlock sat up straight and rubbed over his tired eyes.  
“Yes, please.” He reached into the bag and handed it over. His eyes met John’s who raised his brows.  
“You didn’t sleep, did you?” He asked.  
“No, I didn’t. I wanted but couldn’t. She held me up until morning because she missed you. I missed you, too.”  
“I have some broken bones. It shouldn’t take too long until I am home.” Sherlock stood and sat on the bed again.  
“You have to recover completely. And with your broken bones you can’t manage the stairs. So please stay here because otherwise I would worry about you falling down.” John worried his lip but finally nodded.  
“You are right, of course. But you have to promise that you will ask for help if you need it. And if necessary, you could surely move over to your brother's?” He suggested.  
“And admit failure? Never. I will manage!” He looked dead serious.  
“But you surely would need a break now and again. Please don’t hesitate. They won’t see it as a failure.” John said.  
“Greg wouldn’t but my brother …” Sherlock looked stressed but John shook his head.  
“No, he loves you and I also think he is very fond of Rosamund. Promise?” Sherlock took his hand because he saw how worried he had become.  
“Promise.” He smiled and kissed his knuckles. He tensed but John relaxed. It had been some sort of reflex but John didn't seem to mind even though his face had a shade of red on nit.  
Rosamund started to gnaw on her hand.  
“I forgot a sock for her.” Sherlock said and looked through the bag. Obviously, Mrs Hudson hadn’t packed socks into it yet.  
“Give her something else to play with. Over there. Take the cardboard thing I am supposed to throw up into.” Sherlock gave it to Rosamund who at once started to shred it into pieces. She was very busy doing so. Right then the nurse returned with her bottle. Sherlock tried to pick up the pieces but she stopped him.  
“No, just leave her be. The main thing is she is happy.” She smiled and handed over the bottle.  
“Thank you. I know we are a nuisance for you.” He quietly said.  
“No, you aren’t a nuisance. You are a happy family.” She gave them a bright smile. John had blushed and Sherlock concentrated on the bottle.  
“Lift me up a bit, please? I’d like to try and feed her.” Sherlock did and placed a smaller pillow between her and John’s chest. He saw that it hurt him but he managed. She sucked the bottle dry.  
“Would you like me to bring anything?” John shook his head looking very tired.  
“No, whatever I want, they provide it.” His eyes drooped. Sherlock stood and pulled the blanket up.  
“Sleep. I’ll be staying. Go on and hold her.” He stuck Rosamund by his side and he thankfully smiled up. Then he fell asleep. Sherlock sighed, took the bottle away and sat back down. He watched him sleep. Rosamund fell asleep, too. Sherlock followed soon.

***

“Have you reached my brother?” Mycroft asked after he had come home earlier than usual. Greg looked up from where he sat on the sofa.  
“No, I haven’t. I called the hospital and they checked on them. They are all asleep right now. It was obviously what they all needed. Most of all John.” Mycroft kept looking at him.  
“And he is making good progress.” Mycroft hummed dropping his briefcase on the hardwood.  
“I think we should invite him over.” Greg added and Mycroft fell down by his side.  
“Not tonight.” He reached out for him and Greg smiled.  
“No, not tonight then.” Mycroft pulled him closer and they slowly kissed. Only when Mycroft’s palm moved over Greg’s stomach pressing him back into the sofa his mobile dinged.  
“They always know …” Greg murmured against his lover’s lips and reached for the phone. But Mycroft pinned his wrist on his back.  
“No. Not now.” His moves became more urgent.  
“Huh …” Coherent speech wasn’t important anymore and Greg gave in. Soon his shirt hung half off his body and his trousers were open. Mycroft held his prick and pulled rather aggressively.  
“God, I need this, you. Now. Like this.” Mycroft all of a sudden ripped off his shirt and pressed him on his back. He forcefully kissed him and parted his legs. He pulled some lube out of his trousers, spilled it all over the place and shoved two fingers into Greg’s behind.  
“Fuck!” Greg yelled and clawed at his biceps but Mycroft didn’t budge. He was rather strong; stronger than he looked.   
The moment he touched his prostate it was all perfect and he sank back moaning very wanton.  
“I thought so.” Mycroft said very smugly. He worked him up until he deemed him ready. He lined up and pushed into him in just one go. Greg yelled the house down. It didn’t matter though at all since every single room was sound-proofed.  
“It’s you. Only you. Always you.” Every word was followed by an almost brutal push of his hips but Greg took it. The painpleasure was showing him things he wasn’t really prepared for. They never had such violent sex before and he had no idea what caused this behaviour. But he didn’t complain because it was perfect.  
He trembled for minutes after his orgasm. He clenched around Mycroft’s cock who screamed the obscenest words. His world became dark after Mycroft had shot his cum into him and made him come for the second time.  
He woke up to Mycroft’s silent sobbing. He tried to open his eyes and held on to his arms.  
“Are you hurt?” Greg asked trying to get up and have a better look.  
“You are asking me?” Mycroft asked and snorted. Then he sniffed and blew his nose. Greg rested on his side and moved to sit up.  
“Ow …” He pulled a face. Mycroft paled.  
“Forgive me. I will prepare a bath for you. Come on.” He stood but Greg shook his head.  
“No, what I need is for you to talk to me. What the fuck happened here?” Mycroft didn’t move. He very slowly shook his head.  
“I don’t know. I am not sure.” Then he turned away and walked into the bath upstairs. Greg got up and kicked off his trousers and pants. He looked down at himself. One of his socks was off, too, and Mycroft’s cum trickled down his thighs and out of his hole. He pulled a face. But he kept moving over to the bar and poured a malt. He carefully sipped it and it burnt where Mycroft had sucked and bit into his lips.  
He knew Mycroft would only talk when he wanted, so he downed his drink and climbed up the stairs while shedding his shirt. In the bath he already waited sitting on the toilet-lid. His eyes roamed over Greg’s bruised body and kept being glued to the one sock. He opened his mouth and Greg just held up his finger.  
“Just don’t!” Greg pulled off his sock. He climbed into the tub and lowered his tanned body into the foamy water. A second later Mycroft knelt by his side and took the sponge. Gently he moved it over Greg’s shoulders and neck followed by his back and chest.  
Then he was given another drink and Greg really, really wondered where he had hidden the glass and bottle. But he had given up a long time ago asking after things. So, he just enjoyed being cuddled.  
“I know you need me to explain what happened.” Mycroft said all of a sudden and Greg just nodded. Mycroft sat down on the tub’s edge and exhaled.  
“I had a visitor today; a former friend from university. We had been close when I was younger. Very close. I really liked him and thought … Anyway, it turned out for him everything was just experimental.” Now Greg opened his eyes. It was rare that Mycroft told something from his past. Plus, it was something special.  
“He provoked me. He made fun of me. He joked about me being single and about my brother’s addiction. Finally, he used words I don’t want to repeat.” By now Greg sat up and held his hands.  
“What did you do?” He asked. Mycroft shrugged.  
“Of course, I retained my composure. The moment he had left though I arranged full observation mode. I want to know his failures; I want to know everything so I can make him dig his own grave.” Greg handed over his glass and Mycroft drank what was left and topped it up at once.  
“But that’s not all.” Greg stated.  
“Of course not.” Now he looked like his old smug self again and Greg felt better, too.  
“So?” Greg wanted to know.  
“I sent my most trusted body-guard after him to give him a good thrashing. No blood, no bruises, no broken bones or knocked out teeth. Just pain and no proof.” He looked like the devil right now.  
“I pretend to have never heard any of this.” Greg said.  
“Of course not, love.” They shared the malt.  
“The main thing though, why I was so very, very angry and upset, was that he said I could never have a family, a real family. My vision went red.” He stood and looked at Greg who returned the gaze. Then he slowly stood, too, and the water ran down his muscular and tanned body.  
“Then we should prove him wrong, shouldn’t we?” He quietly said pulling him into his arms. Mycroft didn’t mind getting wet. Instead he buried his face against his lover’s chest.  
“But …” Mycroft was clueless for once and only felt Greg’s palms move over his still shirt-clad back.  
“Let’s adopt a child. Or find a woman who will carry it for us. Whatever we want, we can do it.” Mycroft lifted his head back up and stared into Greg’s eyes for about ten seconds. Only then he snogged him senseless.

***

When Sherlock woke again, he was covered by a blanket. He rubbed his eyes but he was feeling much better now. He stood and stretched. He looked at John and Rosamund. John was still asleep but the baby grinned up at him. Carefully he picked her up. She was smelly.  
“I’ll clean you up. Come on, love.” He took the bag and quietly left the room to find a place to do right that. The head-nurse crossed his path and she led him into their room.  
“Thanks a lot. We appreciate it.” She stayed and watched him change the baby. She had heard a lot about the Great Detective and nothing much was good. That’s why she stayed. But it looked perfect, she had to admit it. And the baby clearly adored that man, it was obvious.  
After he was done, he reached into the bag and surprisingly found a sock. He handed it over and she snatched it away with both hands laughing up at him. It disappeared partly into her mouth.  
“There you go. Let’s get back to daddy now, shall we?” Sherlock said and stood. His bones cracked.  
“Would you like tea and a cookie? Did she have her bottle?” The nurse asked and Sherlock really was surprised.  
“I’d appreciate tea and cookies. I have one bottle left but she isn’t hungry yet. Before Dr Watson fell asleep, he had fed her so she should be fine.” She nodded.  
“You go back. I’ll get your tea.” He thankfully smiled and left and was back at John’s side when he woke.  
“I need the loo.” He tried to get up.  
“I don’t think you are supposed to get up, John. Stay!” Sherlock ordered and wanted to ring for the nurse.  
“No, please, couldn’t you? I just need the bottle. No more nurses, just please?” Sherlock swallowed and then grabbed the bottle from the bath.  
“Don’t beg me, John. I’ll do anything.” He pulled down the blanket and lifted up his gown. John was tense when he put his cock into the plastic.  
“Relax, John. Do you want me to open the tap?” John looked up at him.  
“No, I am a bloody doctor and not a child.” He chewed on his lips and couldn’t let go. Sherlock knew he had no damaged internal organs so he just pressed on his bladder. John yelped and peed. He peed for a very long time. Sherlock handed over some tissues and afterwards dumped the fluid together with them into the loo. Meanwhile tea and cookies were being brought. The nurse raised a brow but didn’t comment. As long as Dr Watson wasn’t hurt everything was just fine.  
John still was beet red when Sherlock returned cleaning his hands with disinfectant. He poured some tea and brought John the mug.  
“I know I am stupid …” John said and Sherlock shrugged.  
“You know me; I have no boundaries.” It made him laugh again and it also made his ribs hurt.  
“See? Everything is fine. You can trust me; with everything.” He gently took John’s hand.  
“I wish you could stay.” John murmured being tired again.  
“Just get well soon, John. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He kissed him but John already slept. He picked up the baby.  
“We have to go but we will be back tomorrow. Don’t worry, sweetheart.” She swung the sock and he placed her on his arms. Then he stuck some cookies into his coat but left some for John, as well.

***

Back at Baker Street Rosamund was much calmer than before. Now that she had met and seen and touched John everything was good. Sherlock placed her on the rug in front of the sofa while he stored away the pram. He hung up his coat and carried the cookies into his bedroom for later consumption.

By now he actually was hungry. He walked into their kitchen and found the post-it stuck to the fridge.

_“I prepared stew for you. Please eat it or I will tell Mycroft.”  
Mrs H_

Sherlock smiled and sent her a text saying thanks. Then he took the Tupperware out of the fridge and opened the lid. He poured everything into a pot and set it on the stove. He didn’t have to do anything because there were even potatoes already inside. It smelled very tasty and he got a bowl and spoon.  
He looked over his shoulder at Rosamund but she played with the socks. He sat down with his dinner and ate it at the kitchen-table. He even took a selfie to prove he had eaten.  
After dinner he played a while with his baby; their baby. He sighed. What was this?

He felt his eyes droop again and decided to go to bed. He went through his bathroom routine and freshened her up, as well. He built a nest on his bed so she wouldn’t fall off and pulled up the blanket.  
“Daddy will be back soon. I do miss him, too, you know? But we will go and visit him tomorrow again. Perhaps we will go and see my brother and Greg tomorrow, too. I am not sure yet.” She yawned and held on to his t-shirt. He moved his fingertips over her tiny hand and then kissed her soft hair. They fell asleep.

Surprisingly she slept through and Sherlock only woke to the sun shining into his room. He felt much better and they locked eyes.  
“Good morning, my little honeybee. Today will be a good day. We will go for a walk and to Tesco. And we will visit daddy and Mycroft and Greg.” She smiled up at him and made happy noises.  
He got up and quickly used the loo. At first, he got her ready, placed her on the rug with some socks and quickly showered. Afterwards he fed her the bottle and fed himself again, too. He dressed up, got the pram and the baby, and left for the park. He walked for an hour, raced for a half, and even found the time to feed the ducks. She loved feeding the ducks.  
Sherlock had started handing her some bread and just sat her on the ground. The ducks came up and she threw the crumbs around. She wasn’t afraid at all and so weren’t the ducks. Mothers with their children always looked worried at them but he didn’t care. He knew what he was doing.  
When the bread was gone, they went to Tesco. Sherlock raced through the aisles with her to keep her happy. Other customers as well as the store-manager hated him. But what could they do? Plus, he never broke anything nor did she. He smirked completing his shopping-list. He brought everything home and changed her.

It was early afternoon when he left for the hospital. On his way he texted his brother.

_“May we come over for a bit later this afternoon?”  
SH_

Mycroft’s answer didn’t take long.

_“Sure thing. Greg looks forward to it. Dinner?”  
MH_

_“Love to. Thanks. Six pm?”  
SH_

Rosamund yelled at him because he had stopped talking to her. He looked up from the screen.  
“I am just saving our day, love. Don’t be upset.” She grinned and threw a sock on the ground. He picked it up and shook the dirt off. Then he gave it back.

_“Sure. Love to see the baby again. And you. Of course.”  
MH_

Sherlock grinned and again had to pick up the sock.

_“Of course. See you.”  
SH_

Sherlock reached the hospital and was greeted by all the nurses and even some doctors. John was awake when he entered the room with Rosamund. His expression brightened and he carefully reached out for them.  
“Oh, it’s so good to see you. Come here.” Sherlock just pulled off her shoes and placed her on the bed. He lowered his head to kiss her. He actually wanted to kiss John. And then he just did.  
“Hallo love. What’s up?” Sherlock whispered. They locked eyes. John was helpless but he also looked happy.  
“I miss you. I miss her, too.” John sighed.  
“Any news?” John shook his head.  
“None that I know of.” Sherlock took the folder and read.  
“Slight progress, loss of weight and a comment.” Sherlock grinned.  
“Comment? What comment?” John asked.  
“A comment about doctors being patients and such.” John blushed.  
“It’s difficult. I very much want to get up, go outside or shower. Mostly I want to shower.” He looked at him.  
“I can imagine. The only thing I could do is place you in a wheelchair and take you into the garden.” John’s expression darkened.  
“No, thanks.” Sherlock put the folder back and sat on the bed.  
“As you wish.” John reached out and took his hand.  
“I am sorry. It’s just so boring!” Sherlock smiled.  
“It’s usually me saying so.” Rosamund crept over John’s thighs but he took it.  
“How is she doing?” He asked looking at her.  
“Well, I spoil her, of course. She is sleeping in my bed. I went feeding the ducks several times by now and she is having a good time so far. Tonight, we will be having dinner at Myc’s. Greg will be there, too.”  
“I envy you.” John looked sad.  
“The better you behave the sooner you’ll get out of here.” John’s eyes were dark.  
“I do know that!” Sherlock grinned and lowered his head for another kiss. They kissed. The monitors beeped. Afterwards they talked some more and Sherlock estimated the time John needed to stay in hospital to 5 more days. John threw a tantrum and made his daughter cry.  
Sherlock stood and picked her up. He looked angry.  
“John, shut up!” He yelled. And John did shut up. He even looked surprised.  
“I know you are bored and unhappy. But so am I. No cases. I am a bloody housewife, for god’s sake! You are hurt, I do know that. But you are not on your bloody deathbed, John!” John opened his mouth.  
“Don’t!” Sherlock poked John with his finger. He shut up again. Several seconds passed until John looked up again.  
“I am sorry. I am just miserable and whiny.” Sherlock’s swearing had woken him. It was rare that he swore and used words like bloody or worse. And now he had just used bloody twice. So, he must have acted a bit not good. Now Sherlock placed Rosamund back by his side and kissed him again.  
“You know that I can hardly wait to have you back home. But the risk you hurt yourself and it becomes worse is too big.” John nodded.  
“I know.” A nurse came by and wanted to take him away for some exams.  
“Perfect.” Sherlock said.  
“He needs something to do. Make him sweat.” John muttered something impolite. Sherlock smiled and kissed him again.  
“I’ll send Greg over. You’ll like that, won’t you?” John nodded.  
“Yes. Make him bring something nice.” They grinned. Sherlock knew what John wanted and he would tell Greg. Then he picked up Rosamund and left.  
Outside he hailed a cab and rode over to his brother’s. Greg opened the door and smiled a broad smile at Rosamund. Sherlock threw her into his arms.  
“You may take over. I know you waited for it.” He also dropped the baby-bag over his shoulder and disappeared into the house to look for his brother.  
Greg closed the door.  
“Well, my love. First you need a change. Then we will play outside. What do you think, hm?” She made happy noises.  
Greg carried her into the bath and changed her. Afterwards he went outside and sat on the bench with her. She hit her hands on the table and babbled nonsense. Now and again she looked around when she heard something. She also was very curious and reacted to things around her.  
A few minutes later Sherlock and Mycroft came outside each carrying a snack and drinks. Rosamund at once reached out for the bread and started to shred it. Greg took it away and shook his head. She looked almost shocked.  
“Ucks!” She yelled into his face and Sherlock’s face was priceless.  
“Her first word! I need to record it! Take it away from her again, Greg!” He was excited and his hands shook when he prepared his mobile. Mycroft just watched when they repeated it. And again, she yelled at Greg.  
“Ucks!” Now he let her have the bread but looked at Sherlock.  
“What is this about? First word? Not daddy? Poor sods!” He grinned and Sherlock sat down with red cheeks.  
“I went feeding the ducks with her. Ducks! Ucks!” Sherlock explained.  
“Huh.” Greg made a confirming sound.  
“Obvious.” Mycroft said. Rosamund waved the bread around and threw the crumbs on the lawn. An hour later she suddenly looked at Mycroft.  
“My!” She yelled and she surprised him. Sherlock grinned.  
“How cute!” He said and Greg grinned, too.  
“It really is. Why didn’t I think of that?” He wondered.  
“Because I wouldn’t allow it.” Mycroft answered. Sherlock snickered. Rosamund offered the saliva-soaked bread to Mycroft now who graciously took it from her.  
“Is it OK if I swing with her?” Greg asked Sherlock who just nodded his confirmation. Greg happily went over and sat her on his lap and started to swing. Then Sherlock told his brother about John’s tantrum.  
“Yes, I see. So do you. I mean, everybody suffered because of your tantrums.” Sherlock looked at his hands.  
“I know that. I also understand him a lot. I would bang my head against the wall if it was me.”  
“Let me talk to his doctor. See, what he tells me.” Sherlock thankfully smiled.  
“When do we have dinner?” He asked and Mycroft raised a brow.  
“Don’t tell me you are actually hungry?” He almost sounded shocked.  
“But I am! I am running around the whole fucking day. I am hungry. Sod it!” Sherlock said swearing again. He didn’t even notice anymore. Mycroft wondered about Rosamund picking up strange words.  
“We can eat in about half an hour. I’ll tell cook.” Mycroft stood and walked inside. Sherlock stepped over to Greg to push him higher.  
When Mycroft returned, he stepped up to them.  
“You should tell John at once, don’t you think?” He suggested.  
“Tell him what?” Greg asked and stopped swinging.  
“The first word.” Mycroft answered and Greg quickly agreed.  
“You are right, brother-dear. He has something to be happy about. I will send him the audio.”  
“But he doesn’t have a suitable mobile.” Greg said.  
“Oh. Well, I will bring him a tablet tomorrow and show him personally. It can wait until then.”  
“You are right. He probably needs to rest anyway. He will be exhausted after his tantrum.”  
“And embarrassed enough, I believe.” Sherlock added.  
“How long does he have to stay? I wondered if I could go over tomorrow and visit him?” Greg looked at Sherlock.  
“He already asked for you today. He wants you to bring stuff. I am to tell you that. It looked like you were supposed to know what he was talking about.” Greg grinned.  
“Well, yes, of course I do. He wants something nice to eat and drink, like pub food and a beer.” Greg shrugged.  
“But you can’t do that, Gregory!” Mycroft looked shocked.  
“Why not? It will cheer him up!” Greg looked up at him.  
“And you could always put him in a wheelchair and hide in the park. This way he gets out at last.” Sherlock suggested.  
“Perfect!” Greg said starting to swing again. Mycroft didn’t talk back and Sherlock was surprised. Something didn’t seem right. He pulled him a bit to the side.  
“Is everything OK between you and Greg?” Sherlock asked.  
“Yes, it is. I only sort of savaged him yesterday after I have met Colin at work.” Sherlock raised a brow.  
“Well, I guess it didn’t go well.” Mycroft didn’t look at him.  
“No, not at all. I made it home without anyone noticing my being upset but then I saw Gregory and I just …” He shook his head.  
“You just needed him. I perfectly understand.”  
“I know you do. And Colin was just, he was, well, Colin.” Sherlock pulled a face.  
“May I ask what he said to make you hurt so much?” For a moment Mycroft cast his eyes but then told his younger brother.  
“What a cock …” He muttered and Mycroft nodded.  
“He won’t stroll through Whitehall for much longer.” Mycroft said and Sherlock grinned.  
Right then Kurt, the butler, announced that dinner was ready and they walked inside. Greg placed Rosamund on the hardwood by the table. She still held a sock and everything was fine. Soon they talked over dinner and also had wine. When Sherlock turned around again, Rosamund was gone.  
He stared at the point where Greg had placed her. Then he jumped up and wildly stared around.  
“Where is she? Greg? Mycroft? Rosamund is gone!” Greg turned around, too. His mouth was full and he shrugged.  
“Come down, Sherlock. She can’t be gone. The door is closed. She must be in here. Don’t worry.” But Sherlock was worried. What if she knocked her head? What if she cut herself with a letter-opener? Loads of what-ifs where in his head and he started to sweat.  
He started to search and moved through the room. Greg stood, too, and took over the other half.  
“Sherlock, look. Come over here but not too quick. Mycroft, you too. You have to see this.” Greg had spoken quietly but with a smile in his voice. Sherlock hurried over but carefully.  
Rosamund was behind Mycroft’s desk and held herself up by the desk’s handle. She stood on her wobbly little legs.  
“God …” Sherlock sounded very happy and got his mobile out. He snapped a picture and right then she couldn’t hold her up anymore and fell down on her bum. She just snorted and tried to get up again.  
“Honey, what do you want there?” Greg asked and wanted to pick her up. Now Sherlock snorted.  
“Mycroft stores his nosh there; his secret supply.” Sherlock answered.  
“There is no such thing.” Mycroft interrupted and now watched, too.  
“Of course not, love.” Greg said nothing more but grinned.  
“I have to watch her more now. It’s getting dangerous.” Mycroft nodded.  
“That’s right, brother-dear. But don’t tail her too close. She needs her experiences.” Sherlock sighed.  
“I know. John misses so much already in only a few days. It’s such a shame.” Sherlock whispered sadly.  
“Yes, it’s true but you have proof and he will love it.” Greg said.


	5. Chapter Five

John could go home after four days. He knew it had been good to stay in hospital but still he hadn’t liked it. Sherlock had been more than happy when he picked him up. Mycroft had sent a car for them.

Sherlock fussed over him and unpacked all his stuff while John held Rosamund in the living-room of 221B. Then he even stuffed everything into the washing-machine.  
John was surprised anyway how clean everything was. He had been worried but everything was perfect. Sherlock turned around and looked at him.  
“I cleaned yesterday night to finish. It needed to be perfect and I didn’t want to waste any time on it when I finally had you home again. He sauntered close and finally kissed him for real. John hummed.  
“I see …” A rough whisper only. They went on with the kissing. Suddenly John’s stomach rumbled.  
“You are hungry. Sit. I’ll feed you.” John held on to him.  
“The only thing I want to devour is you …” He bit into his jaw making Sherlock groan.  
“You need to recover. Sit. I insist.” John sighed but did as being told. His eyes followed Sherlock when he opened the fridge and pulled out loads of Tupperware.  
“What is it? What did Mrs H cook for us?” John curiously asked. Sherlock tensed and looked over his shoulder. For a few seconds he gnawed on his lips. The he turned back around.  
“I cooked your welcome-home dinner.” He only whispered the words. After a second, he added something.  
“Are you sure you want to take the risk?” He aggressively stirred something. John bit his lip.  
“Damn …” He thought. Then he just stood and approached him.  
“It’s no risk. I just thought since she always cooks, you know. I didn’t think you couldn’t. Do you hear me?”  
“Yes, I do. But I need more convincing.” But it sounded more playful already. John smiled and kissed the place on his shirt he liked the most, the place right between his shoulder-blades. The place he had only secretly looked at but was now allowed to touch and kiss.  
“I know you can do such things on a very professional level. Only you are too lazy most of the times. And this just looks fantastic.” He very undignified stood on his tiptoes and tried to reach his neck. Sherlock lowered it exactly the few centimetres needed. John hummed and once bit down.  
“Can’t wait …” Sherlock grinned over his shoulder.  
“First I need to finish stirring the potion!” John laughed and went to look for Rosamund who was still playing with socks. He slowly went on his knees by her side and she threw the sock. John caught it.  
“Hallo my love. Can you say something new for daddy?” He looked at her but she didn’t say anything. Instead she kept waving the sock around. He played with her until Sherlock called him to the table. He quickly hurried and sat down. Only then he saw how beautiful the table had been set up. There were flowers and a candle as well as horribly expensive wine.  
“This is wonderful, love.” He looked at him and Sherlock got rosy cheekbones.  
“I am just so happy that you are back home.” He filled their glasses and they drank.  
“I am very happy, too. It was exhausting but of course you were right on insisting I stay. And I am still so very embarrassed for my acting back then. And sorry; very much so.” Sherlock just smiled.  
“It’s all fine.” Sherlock smiled and sipped more wine.  
“Role reversal?” John asked and smiled, too. Sherlock just shrugged.  
“I have grown up, John. I feel responsible. Just look at us. We are a family.” He blushed and concentrated on his meal.  
“You are right; we are.” John was so happy; he wasn’t able to find words. So, he just reached out for Sherlock’s hand and took it. He also made a decision but didn’t tell Sherlock about it. Not yet anyway.

They had been working up to this for weeks and months now. Everything had started with only a few touches, later even kisses. Still they weren't sharing a bed for the night. Yet they hadn't slept with each other.

***

A few days later they were almost back to normal. John was preparing for his next shift because he wanted to start working again. Sherlock wasn’t really OK with it but didn’t stop him.

Sherlock also wondered why John was preparing for his work in his bedroom. But he had asked not to be disturbed so Sherlock for once didn’t. He could hear him rummage in there and mutter but couldn’t deduce what was going on. He shrugged it off and bathed Rosamund instead. That was always fun. He had introduced her to his collection of rubber-ducks and she loved it. He also played the song from Sesame Street about one very special rubber-duck being performed by Ernie. He always sang along very loudly and they had a lot of fun. John had a film on his computer.  
He dressed her afterwards and fed her the bottle. She fell asleep in his arms and he held her until John called for him.  
“What’s up?” Sherlock asked but made no intention to move because he was holding John’s, their, baby.  
“Could you come in here, please? I need you to see something. Urgently!” John insisted. Sherlock raised a brow and slowly walked over. He shifted her on his arms and opened the door.  
And then he almost dropped the baby. He stared. His eyes roamed over the things in his room. It didn’t look like his room anymore. John had done the bedding. Now there were black and dark-green sheets. The curtains were closed and the light was dim. There were flowers and petals and also candles.  
And then there was John. John had changed. He wore black denims and a wonderful V-necked jumper. And it fit the bedding because it was also green. He looked into his eyes.  
“John, what …” John stepped up.  
“Hush, let me.” Sherlock closed his mouth and held on to Rosamund. He was clueless. Certainly, he had missed something again. And now John had done something nice for him and he had nothing. Fuck, he thought.  
“Sherlock, I wanted to do this for a very long time.” Suddenly John’s voice came from down below.  
“I love you very much. I want us to be a family and Rosamund your daughter before the law. So, will you please marry me?” He held up a ring.  
Sherlock opened his mouth but had no words. He felt like a carp. His eyes moved from John to the ring and back. John knew he was shocked. He knew all his looks and he gave him the time he needed. He only shifted when his knee started to ache.  
Very carefully Sherlock put Rosamund on the bed and plonked on his knees. With trembling fingers, he took he ring but John held on to it.  
“You have to answer my question first, you see?” His voice was rough.  
“You already know my answer, John.” Sherlock replied pulling at the ring but John held on.  
“However could I?” John answered. Only then Sherlock straightened up.  
“Yes, John, I will marry you.” John once more pulled at the ring and Sherlock let go. Instead John held Sherlock’s hand and shoved the ring over his finger. Sherlock stared at the ring on his finger. He swallowed and looked back at John.  
“Where is yours?” John pulled the second from his pocket and Sherlock snatched it away. John let him and just held up his hand.  
“This is something I never imagined for myself …” Sherlock quietly whispered. Then he put the ring on John’s finger and threw himself at him snogging him senseless.  
They kept rolling over the hardwood in their bedroom for quite some time until Rosamund started to cry.  
“Daddy is coming right up, love.” John groaned and wanted to get up but Sherlock stopped him.  
“No, she is just cranky because we don’t entertain her. There is nothing wrong and if we keep on cuddling her on every whim, well, you know what I mean.” John sighed.  
“You are right.” They kept on kissing and Rosamund stopped screaming and fell asleep.

***

Later on, John admitted he wouldn’t go to work that day and Sherlock was beyond happy.  
“What are we going to do instead?” Sherlock asked looking very innocent. John grinned.  
“Well, I planned a dinner for us, if you are up to it?” He looked at him and Sherlock just nodded.  
“Then you should get ready because I won’t take you out looking so much debauched.” Sherlock blushed and disappeared into the bath. When he came back out, he was dressed as immaculate as ever.  
“What about Rosamund?” He asked.  
“Molly will take over. I asked her beforehand if she got the time and she agreed.”  
“Really?” Sherlock had doubts but John nodded.  
“She wants you to be happy, Sherlock. By now she knows she stands no chance.”  
“No, she never did.” Sherlock sighed. Then he noticed John looking at him.  
“What is it? Is something not good?” John moved up and palmed his face.  
“No, everything is just perfect. I just like looking at you. I keep thinking …” Then he shook his head.  
“What? Tell me!” Sherlock slung his long arm around his waist and pulled him close.  
“I am still wondering why me. You are so beautiful you could be on magazine-covers. But look at me. I am …” Sherlock pressed his finger on his lips.  
“Shut up. You are stupid. You have no idea what I see when I look at you.” Sherlock intensely stared at him.  
“Then tell me. Tell me now because you never did.”  
“I did many times, John. You only never heard me.” John swallowed and leant against him. Their bodies slotted together and Sherlock started to talk.  
“Every time I played the violin, I played out my feelings for you. I only invaded your personal space to be close to you, not to annoy you. I let you punch me because I needed your forgiveness. I let you go with Mary because I thought you deserve to be happy. I shot Magnussen because I believed you’d need a life with Mary. I hate your jumpers even though these silly things make you shine even more. You are morally strong and always know how to behave. You were the first who managed to make me eat and sleep. You were the first man I ever laid my eyes on and kept looking. I watched your hair getting grey and love how it shines in the sun. I looked into your eyes and see the ocean. I am looking at you and feel home.”  
Sherlock kept holding John until he felt him tremble. And only then he started to feel the wetness on his shirt. He tried to pull him off his body but John didn’t budge.  
“I forgot to mention how much I love and admire your strength and strong body, very muscular and manly.” Now John laughed and it was more a choking sound than anything else.  
“Fuck, Sherlock. That was … I don’t know what it was. I love you!” He murmured into his shirt.  
“I always wondered why you would even look at me. Now one ever did. Everyone hates me and gave and still gives me names.” He shrugged but kept holding him. But now he placed his chin on top of his head and closed his eyes.  
“I think you are eye-candy.” John replied cheekily. The next second he got pushed against the wall and kissed. Sherlock’s knee was pressing up against his groin and he had lowered his body so he could do this properly.  
“Sherlock, Molly is on her way … Please …” Another move and Sherlock’s hand was stuck inside his boxers.  
“I’ll make you come into your denims, John.” John quietly laughed and started sucking his nipple through his dress-shirt. Sherlock tensed and came standing stock-still. Then he just stroked him hard and it only needed two strokes combined with earlobe-sucking and John came, too.  
They stared into each other’s eyes and soon started to giggle.  
“We need to change.” John said and wanted to go. Right then it knocked on their door.  
“No time, John. We’ll go and won’t stop thinking about this through dinner. Now let’s face Molly.” John blushed.  
“But …” But Sherlock already opened the door and welcomed Molly into their flat.

***

“Hallo Sherlock.” Shy as ever but he welcomed her politely and ushered her in.  
“Hallo Molly. She is still asleep. Bottles are prepared and you know everything anyway.” John said.  
“Of course.” Then she saw the ring on his finger and her eyes opened wide.  
“Oh!” She cried out and at once looked at Sherlock who wiggled his fingers at her. She at once saw his happiness and she was happy, too; just as he had predicted.  
At once she started to cry and John and Sherlock quickly left before being pulled into a discussion.  
Sherlock hailed a cab and then looked at John for directions. Sherlock couldn’t be surprised easily but now he was. He had expected something like the restaurant where John had proposed to Mary. Well, he actually hadn’t because Sherlock interrupted that. But anyway. Something like that. But the cab stopped in front of Angelo’s and Sherlock started to feel strange. He didn’t dare looking at John but he knew anyway and took his hand. He pulled him out of the cab and inside. Angelo greeted them and ushered them both into the back. He had separated the place so John and Sherlock were alone looking outside from their favourite table. The light was dimmed and a candle was burning. Actually, several candles were burning and there were flowers, too.  
John pressed his hand and he sat down. Then he pulled a face and carefully adjusted his trousers and pants. Sherlock smirked and then did exactly the same.  
Angelo brought the menus and looked very smug.  
“It took you long enough.” Inside John’s menu was a post-it saying:

_“If you hurt him, I will put you into a coffin and pour concrete over your dead body. Oh, don’t worry. Sherlock will take care of Rosamund.”  
Angelo_

John laughed out loud. Sherlock raised a brow. Inside his menu stuck a post-it, too. It said:

_“Don’t do anything rush like taking off without protection. He will always be by your side.”  
Angelo_

Their eyes met over the menus and they smiled reaching out for each other.  
“Did you tell him beforehand?” Sherlock asked and John nodded.  
“Yes, I did. He was so happy.” He moved his fingertips over Sherlock’s knuckles. Angelo returned with a bottle of red wine.  
“It’s on the house. Please enjoy.” They ordered and Angelo brought some fruity starters and fresh bread. Sherlock ate everything, even the whole main course he had chosen. Obviously happiness burnt calories. He had to do some research on the topic; now that he could. Then there was dessert, as well. Sherlock ate tiramisu and ice-cream. He was licking the spoon when he suddenly looked at John.  
“You know, I think I will go and have a bath with my trousers and pants on. Because if I don’t, I might rip some precious skin off while undressing.” John choked on his wine.

***

They both ended up in the tub with another bottle of wine. Molly had been quietly watching telly when they returned. Rosamund was asleep on a blanket on the ground happily snoring and drooling around a sock.  
“You really have to buy her a proper bed and playground, guys.” She yawned and gave them both a kiss. John hugged her back but Sherlock was a bit stiff. But she just smiled and once stroked over his back. Then she left and John closed and locked their door.  
Sherlock was already on his way to fill the tub and carefully shed his clothes on the way. John got the bottle. They giggled like teenagers when they peeled off their trousers and pants after a few minutes inside the warm water.  
They finished the wine groping and kissing each other. Some wine mixed with the water and other substances. Contaminated water rushed down the drain and both men stumbled into Sherlock’s bedroom. Then they looked at each other.  
“We can’t leave our daughter on the floor in the living-room.” Sherlock muttered.  
“No, we can’t.” John sighed.  
“We will buy a bed tomorrow and make the room upstairs into a baby-room.” Sherlock suggested.  
“And for now?” John looked up at him.  
“For now, we pretend she is still asleep and you will fuck me into the mattress.” John groaned.  
“Whenever you say these things in your public-school accent, it turns me on so much!” John admitted.  
“I know that, my darling toy-soldier, my beautiful fuck-toy, my submitting army-doctor, my …”  
“Oi!” John said and knocked him over and onto the bed. Sherlock smirked and turned them around.  
“Just admit it, once and again you like to be submissive. You like writhing beneath my lithe body, me holding you down and deny you your orgasm until you beg and wail …” His voice was all husky and low and John shivered.  
But then he slowly reached up his arms and wound his fingers around the headrest. He spread his legs very wantonly and arched up his hips.  
“Come on then, don’t make promises you can’t keep. Make me wail …” Sherlock stared at John and admittedly he was surprised. This was playful John who didn’t come out very often. But perhaps now he felt safer after having exchanged the rings.  
“Up for some adventure?” Sherlock asked staring into John’s eyes.  
“You won’t tie me up and start some weird experiment, right, Sherlock?” John swallowed.  
“Let’s call it sexperiment and I might tie you up providing utmost pleasure.” John just stared.  
“You do trust me, don’t you?” Sherlock asked. John was excited like he never was before and just nodded.  
“Yes, I do. You will stop when I tell you though.” It sounded more like a question than a demand and Sherlock smirked.  
“Depending on you being able to talk, you mean.” His eyes were like ice, fire on ice, and John was hard as a rock.  
“You are the fucking devil, Sherlock. I had no idea …” John breathed hard.  
“Turn on your front, slut …” Now Sherlock started the dirty talk and it didn’t help John to come down. Not at all. Instead he threw himself on his front and groaned loudly. Sherlock pressed his head into the pillow.  
“Lucky us I am well prepared. Give me your hands.” He whispered his order into John’s ear. John swallowed and wondered what Sherlock was up to. He turned around again and stretched out his arms towards Sherlock who suddenly placed handcuffs around his left wrist.  
“I nicked them from Greg last time we met him.” Sherlock smirked when he pushed John’s arms back and closed it behind the bars of their headrest around the right wrist. John’s eyes were wide and he was bloody surprised. He also was getting harder.  
Sherlock straddled him properly and sat high up on his thighs. He smoothed his palms over John’s chest rubbing over his nipples.  
“I can feel you, slut. You like this.” He looked smug now and John blushed. Sherlock got up and moved backwards.  
“You are leaking, bitch. You want to be my bitch, don’t you, John? My bitch. Mine.” He smiled and John’s face was crimson. He licked his lips. Then he had to clear his throat. But he didn’t reply. Sherlock raised a brow.  
“I can’t hear you, bitch. You should know best how to follow orders and demands or answer questions, don’t you? Do I have to threaten you with punishment? Hm? A pinch for disobeying? Like this?” And he pinched John’s nipple making him groan rather loud. At once he bit his lips but Rosamund was still asleep.  
John didn’t fear the punishment but he didn’t want her to wake. That’s why he answered.  
“Yes, I want to be your bitch, Sir.” Sherlock lowered his head.  
“Very good, indeed.” He licked over John’s jaw and throat. John shook all over. He watched him for about a minute until he asked:  
“Do you want to proceed?” A serious question but John quickly nodded.  
“Yes, Sir, I do.” John indeed liked this. Perhaps he liked this a bit too much. But it was new and exciting. He had had no idea that Sherlock liked this. Somehow it probably was an experiment.  
Sherlock reached to the sides and pulled out ropes. He must have prepared this on short notice because when John had changed the sheets for his proposal they hadn't been there. Sometimes he wondered if Sherlock was some sort of warlock, a magician, or a witch? What was the male term? His brain wandered off without him and he woke again when Sherlock pulled his legs apart. His knees were pulled up and to the sides so he was spread wide open, completely exposed and on display for Sherlock to look at.  
John’s prick stood to full attention and kept leaking.  
“Now isn’t this a beautiful sight?” He pressed his finger on the underside of John’s cock and moved it down to the root. John was panting and sweating. His balls were close to bursting and his brain was offline.  
And suddenly it became wet and cold between his legs and he twitched. Sherlock held him down and probed on his hole. Normally John had been on top so he was really tight. Sherlock soothed him by kissing his thighs and stroking his cock.  
Once his finger was buried deep, he asked:  
“Would you like something to keep your voice down?” Again, very low voiced and husky. But John shook his head.  
“As you wish, slut.” Sherlock started to rub over and press on his prostate. John bit his lips while Sherlock attacked his body.  
“Sherlock, please, please, let me come! Please?” Sherlock smiled.  
“This was the begging. Very well done, but I am still waiting for the wailing. Go on!” It took them about five more minutes until John was wailing; very quietly but more intense.  
Sherlock decided it was the right moment to push into him. He knelt between his spread legs and held his knees apart pushing forward. He stared into his eyes and John returned the gaze out of bleary eyes.  
The moment John came his eyes rolled back into his head and the wailing was a nonstop sound. Sherlock held on to his legs that he was convinced he’d leave bruises but he couldn’t care less. So, when he came, he waited it out and felt it pulse out of his prick and into John’s body. And after it was over, he just fell forward and buried John beneath him breathing against his armpit.  
He rested and breathed like this for about two minutes until he was able to speak again.  
“John?” But there was no reply. He turned his head and looked up. John’s eyes were closed and he didn’t move. Sherlock poked him but got no reaction. John was knocked out.  
Their first time had been very intense but obviously John had liked it. It had been risky for Sherlock to act like he had but it had worked out.  
He felt John's pulse but it was all fine. He slowly got up pulling out. It was such a messy business but he had to grin. He went into the bath and got a towel. He held it under the warm water and cleaned John at least a bit.  
John didn’t even wake when Sherlock grabbed his dressing-gown and opened the door. Quietly he closed it again and at first had a look at Rosamund who was playing quietly with her sock. She looked up at him and waved her sock.  
“Ock!” Sherlock clapped his hands and stupidly grinned.  
“Yes, my love, it’s a sock.” He sat down by her side and pulled at it. She laughed out loud.  
“You see, tomorrow we will buy you a proper bed, toys and whatever you need. Then we will make up your room upstairs. It was daddy’s old room but he doesn’t need it anymore because he stays in my room now.” She kept looking at him and then turned her head as if looking for John.  
“Are you looking for daddy? He is still asleep in the bedroom. Don’t worry, he’ll come out soon and force some crap-telly on us.” Suddenly she tensed and then pulled a face.  
“Oh, I see. Come on then.” Sherlock picked her up and changed her. Then he sat on the sofa with her and poured a glass of wine. She tried to reach for the bottle.  
“Are you hungry again? Coming after your daddy, aren’t you? I’ll feed you right away.” He carried her into the kitchen and heated her food. On the counter was a forgotten piece of toast and she snatched it right away stuffing it into her mouth. She coughed out half of it anyway but kept it inside until it was thoroughly soaked.  
While preparing everything one-handed Sherlock switched the radio on and turned the music low. He swayed along with Rosamund on his arms quietly singing along. She looked up at him and beamed.  
When the microwave dinged her eyes widened and her arms came up.  
“Yes, honey, it’s done now. Let’s eat.” He tested the heat and even suckled a few drops. She looked almost annoyed at that but it was too cute. He danced back into the living-room and fed her. She kept holding on to the bottle and gained more strength. Soon she should be able to hold it all by herself.  
It was late but Sherlock wasn’t tired. He didn’t want to go to bed again. Even though he could join John in there but he wanted to be with Rosamund for a while.  
Suddenly it struck him. John. John was still tied to his bed. Sweat broke out. He had completely forgotten. He had managed about cleaning him up a bit but hadn’t untied him.  
“Damn!” He murmured and placed Rosamund on the rug. He hurried into the bedroom and quickly climbed on the bed. Lucky him, John was still out. But by now he was sleeping.  
Sherlock took in the sight again. Completely debauched, dried sweat and dirty, hair a mess and very much sexed up. This was John right now. Sherlock smiled and started to loosen the ropes. Only when he opened the handcuffs John began to move.  
“Sh’lock?” He slurred and Sherlock smiled.  
“You are adorable, John.” He whispered and kissed his forehead moving his fringe out of the way. Slowly John blinked his eyes open. After a few seconds he focused on Sherlock and a huge but tired smile came up.  
“You are amazing, love …” Sherlock giggled.  
“What do you need?” He asked while he watched John move over the mattress.  
“Water …” John answered quietly.  
“On my way.” Sherlock brought him a big glass and he drank it in one go. He was feeling better afterwards.  
“I never expected something like this. You were fantastic. I never would have thought. God, I don’t have words for our first time.” John slowly shook his head.  
“I thought it was worth a try.” Sherlock shrugged.  
“You bet it was.” John grinned.  
“Next time we could switch?” Sherlock suggested carefully making John look up.  
“We could certainly do that.” John nodded.  
“Are you very tired? Because I am not.” Sherlock looked at him.  
“No, actually I am quite awake now after the water. Is there some wine left?” Sherlock nodded.  
“I have opened another bottle. Come on then.” John groaned picking up his shed clothes but decided he needed to clean up first. He also chose comfier clothes afterwards and joined Sherlock and Rosamund who happily reached out for him.  
“You are still awake, too? What did you do except eating socks?” John asked picking her up. Sherlock told him what he had done and John was surprised again how well Sherlock managed everything with her.  
“It’s a good plan for tomorrow. We will buy everything and should probably buy some paint and such, too.”  
“Why?” Sherlock looked clueless.  
“The walls are just plain white. I think she needs some colour, pictures of birds, the sun or whatever we can think of.”  
“Bees!” Sherlock called out and now John looked a bit clueless.  
“Bees? Why bees?” He asked disbelievingly. Sherlock looked self-conscious.  
“I liked bees when I was little. I always found them fascinating. When I became a teen, my parents gave me a beehive in the back of the garden. And if I could I would have one now.” He shrugged.  
“I didn’t know.” John was thoughtful.  
“I never told.” Sherlock shrugged.  
“But it sounds nice. So, you will paint the bees.” Sherlock looked shocked.  
“Me? I can’t paint!” John grinned.  
“You can do everything. There will probably be stencils.” But that suggestion hurt Sherlock’s pride. John could read it on his face.  
“We need loads of toys for her, too. Good toys.” Sherlock seriously stated.  
“She’s still a baby, Sherlock.” John was a bit scared by now.  
“She starts to speak already. Plus, she is our daughter. She needs to be educated properly.” Inside John’s mind a picture popped up showing Rosamund with goggles and diapers.  
“We’ll go and buy everything together, OK?” John pulled him close.  
“We sure will. I don’t want her end with a set of bloody Lego Star Wars nonsense.”  
“I could get you a light sabre?” For a second Sherlock was interested but then he just pulled away muttering something nasty. John laughed.  
“Crap telly?” Sherlock nodded and switched it on. They watched some weird crime series until Rosamund fell asleep on the rug. Only then they went to bed, too.


	6. Chapter Six

The next day found Sherlock and John at their kitchen table writing a list of what to buy for Rosamund. Sherlock had just added a highchair so she could sit with them. John added a safety-guard for the stairs. The list became longer and longer but both men were utterly pleased.  
“We need a bigger car than Mrs Hudson’s sports car.” John said.  
“I happen to know how very small the trunk is.” Sherlock pulled a face when John smirked.  
“What about Mycroft’s Jeep from Baskerville? Does he still have it?” John asked.  
“Yes, he does. I’ll check if we can borrow it.” Sherlock took his mobile and even called his brother. A thing he rarely did since he preferred to text.  
“Yes, Sherlock, what do you want?” Mycroft quickly picked up.  
“Your Jeep. Please.” He only added the please after John had poked him.  
“Greg and I need it ourselves; I am sorry. What are you up to? Since I know you don’t have a case …”  
“We wanted to buy things for Rosamund to make John’s old room into hers.”  
“Oh, how nice. Well, you can have it this afternoon after Greg and I are back.”  
“Thanks a lot, Mycroft. We appreciate it.” They hung up and John looked at Sherlock.  
“Why does your brother ride in the Jeep with Greg? There is something going on.”  
“Deducing much, John?” Sherlock grinned.  
“It’s just uncommon, isn’t it?” John asked.  
“I’ll find out anyway as soon as I am in the car.” He shrugged it off.

***

Mycroft had ended the call and looked at Greg. Greg looked back and his eyes still shone.  
“Aren’t we acting too quickly?” He asked but still looked happy.  
“No, I cleared the way and we should go and have a look. If we want, we can take him home right away.” Greg moved up close and embraced Mycroft.  
“This is more than I ever imagined.” He looked at the ring on his finger. Mycroft had provided the proper papers and they had married very quietly and secretly the day before. No one knew and no one suspected anything, not even Sherlock.  
They would have a big celebration later but this was only for adopting. They needed to be married to be able to adopt a child. Even Mycroft Holmes couldn't change that.  
And now they were on their way to look at a child. It was a boy whose mother had died while giving birth. There were no relatives and Mycroft just used his powers to be first on the list for the child. And for once Greg didn’t object.  
Mycroft parked the car in front of the children’s home. They left the car and looked at each other over the roof.  
“Are you sure?” Mycroft asked again.  
“Yes, I am sure. Let’s move.” Greg replied and walked around the car. He took Mycroft’s hand and pulled him along and up the stairs. The entered the house and looked around for some reception area. It was eerily still.  
“It’s too quiet …” Greg whispered. Mycroft hummed.  
“There are supposed to be children playing and yelling.” He added.  
“Mr Holmes-Lestrade?” A woman appeared looking like the typical dolled-up old bag from next door. Greg disappeared behind Mycroft who at once put on a game face and reached out his hand.  
“Miss Hardley, thanks for having us over on such a short notice.” She thinly smiled.  
“Well, an old acquaintance called and asked for a favour. Who could say no to a Lord?”  
“I assume only a selected few.” Mycroft answered and they were led into her office.  
“So, you are interested in adopting a baby-boy?” She asked looking between them. Both men nodded.  
“Yes, we are. And if we both agree we will take him home right away.” She looked shocked.  
“But the paperwork needs to be done properly.” Greg wanted to assure her that it wasn’t a problem but Mycroft just said:  
“I am sure the paperwork will be just fine. A very old friend of mine has a high opinion about this place and you, too. She already promised to let our boy play with the Corgis once we are settled.” A cold expression was on his face.  
“A very old friend of yours, I see.” She swallowed and Greg suppressed a grin. She stood and led them into the crib. Several babies were resting here or even sleeping.  
“This is him. He hasn’t got a name yet. If you like?” She gestured over and Greg moved at once. Gently he took him up and cradled him in his arms. Then he looked at Mycroft and it was sealed.  
“Here, take him, too. Damn your umbrella, Myc. Excuse me.” Lestrade stumbled over the words but managed to put the boy into Mycroft’s arms. And the ice-man smiled.

***

An hour later both Mycroft and Greg stared at the boy in their car. Greg had provided a special carrier to drive him safely around. Now he rested inside and had been changed, as well. He was awake by now and waved his baby arms around.  
“We have to think about a name.” Greg quietly said offering his finger.  
“Well, of course it will be Alexander Henry Scott Holmes-Lestrade.” Mycroft imperiously raised a brow.  
“And where is my name in there?” Lestrade dared to ask.  
“Lestrade?” Mycroft said but Greg shook his head.  
“Try better, Myc.” Mycroft stuck the top of his umbrella into the pebbles. After a few minutes he said:  
“What about Alexander Henry Scott Pierre Holmes-Lestrade?” He looked at him.  
“Second.” Greg demanded and Mycroft tried again.  
“Alexander Pierre Henry Scott Holmes-Lestrade. Pleased now?” He sounded annoyed.  
“Yes, love. Let’s leave quickly.” Greg pecked a kiss on Mycroft’s pointy nose and slid behind the wheel. He looked into the rear mirror while starting the car.  
“Later we’ll be going with the siren on and taking Uncle Sherlock, too.” He laughed.  
“No, you surely won’t.” Mycroft said but Greg ignored him being extremely happy. Alexander wildly shook the rattle.

***

Greg brought over the Jeep and was picked up by one of Mycroft’s black cars. Sherlock and John were just able to wave good-bye when he already disappeared into the thick traffic. Sherlock opened the door and stuck his head inside.  
“Hm.” He said looking closely at many things. Then he sniffed the seats. And then he raised a brow.  
“They got a baby.” He looked at John.  
“What? They can’t just get a baby. They aren’t married for once and it needs months to adopt a child.”  
“Not for Mycroft it doesn’t.” Sherlock sounded thoughtful. He tried to pull up a picture of Greg inside his mind palace from just now. He suddenly banged his hand flat on the roof of the Jeep.  
“He wore a ring! John, they secretly got married. They didn’t even tell me!” He sounded reproachful.  
“Well, did we tell them about our engagement?” John asked.  
“That’s entirely different.” Sherlock said and sat behind the wheel. John sighed and sat by his side.  
They had left Rosamund behind with Mrs Hudson who was always happy when she could babysit. They rode to several stores and bought tons of things. John loaded some things into the car but some had to be delivered. Sherlock paid for express delivery so they were able to set up everything the same evening.  
The last shop they were in had also clothes and somehow Sherlock managed to get lost. John wasn’t able to locate him and just wanted to text him when he found him bend low over a large basket full of hats and mittens and such. He was rummaging through the offerings and John fondly watched him. Suddenly he got up holding something.  
“Ha!” He called out and turned around. John stepped up.  
“What did you find?” He asked.  
“Look, it’s a bee-hat!” Sherlock was excited and his eyes shone. He held it up for John to inspect it more closely. John just looked at the hat and shrugged. Sherlock’s face darkened.  
“You don’t approve …” His arm slowly lowered the hat and he looked between it and John.  
“No, I mean, yes, I do approve of the hat. It’s cute. I am just surprised that you …” Now Sherlock looked up again still clinging to the hat.  
“That I what? John?” John wasn’t feeling so good right now. He shifted on his feet.  
“It’s just something I never would have guessed you’d do.” His voice had become quiet and he sighed.  
“Just forget it. I am stupid.” Sherlock moved up close and smiled.  
“If you were, I wouldn’t have said yes.” And he kissed him on the cheek making it smack loudly. John blushed.  
“Damn, just take the bloody hat, will you?” He grabbed the cart and walked away with Sherlock on his heels.

***

Later that evening they sat on tons of rubbish and the flat smelled of paint and sweat but they were done. Sherlock looked like a ragged doll with his hair all messy and clad in a dungaree with nothing underneath. John had been very distracted but now they were done. Sherlock obviously was very proud of what he had achieved.  
He went down cross-legged on the floor of their living-room and looked up at John.  
“You know, I have never pictured me in a situation like this.” John smiled and ruffled his hair.  
“You have done well, love. We might have to cut off some strands though since there is paint.”  
“Whatever. It’s worth it.”  
“Take-away?” Sherlock nodded.  
“Indian, the usual for me. Please?” John placed their order and managed to be first in the bath. Sherlock cleaned his hands over the sink in the kitchen and opened the door. He placed their food on the table and got bowls and spoons. He also dug out another bottle of wine.  
John returned clad in comfy clothes and naked feet.  
“What about Rosamund?” John asked.  
“I asked Mrs Hudson if she could keep her overnight.” He wiggled his brows at John who blushed.  
“Oh?” He managed to get out.  
“I want you to be with me. On me. In me.” John sat down and started to eat.  
“Best plan ever.”

***

Sherlock impatiently tapped his foot on the hardwood. He stared at John who sat on the chair sipping his wine. And he grinned. Sherlock didn’t understand why he hadn’t jumped him yet. Was something wrong? Was he planning a pay-back? Wasn’t he feeling well? Was he worried because of Rosamund being not here? Was he …  
“Stop thinking!” Suddenly he was very close and had taken some hair between his fingers. He pulled his head back and made him look up. Sherlock never had been very fond of people pulling his hair. But now it had shot straight south. His lips opened and he looked at John. He didn’t move though.  
“Stop worrying, too.” His grip tightened and he kissed him hard. Sherlock’s body melted beneath him. His eyes fluttered close and he let John take over.  
It went on for minutes until John pulled him into the bedroom.  
“You are the sexiest guy on earth …” He murmured peeling off his work-outfit. Sherlock blushed. He didn’t think so.  
John shed his clothes, too, and pushed him on his back. He fell on the sheets and John jumped right after him landing on top. With his legs spreading Sherlock’s he wasn’t able to reach his face but what he did reach were his nipples. He licked and bit alternately until Sherlock was a shivering mess.  
With his legs pulled upwards and pressing he kept Sherlock writhing and sweating. He once pressed a bit harder and Sherlock’s eyes shot open.  
“God, just do it. This is amazing. Give it to me!” Sherlock demanded and John growled. He knelt up and quickly threw Sherlock on his front. He sat on his very nice behind and grabbed his wrists on his lower back.  
Sherlock didn’t fight back; he just groaned loudly and tried to push up.  
“Yes, I know. Soon.” John whispered roughly and shoved his hands further up. Then he knelt down and held them in position. He spit into his palm several times and slicked up his cock. It made Sherlock groan only louder.  
He lined up and pushed. Sherlock was a bit too tight for this and it took him a bit. They had only just started having the real sex. Before it had only been some serious groping and kissing and simple touching. It had taken them such a long time to find each other.  
And now Sherlock hissed and groaned beneath him but never stopped him. It was just perfect. The silky feeling of his insides so tight around his hard cock was perfect. John really had to calm himself down a bit if he didn’t want to come right away. And he really didn’t want that.  
When he stuck inside his man to the hilt, he fisted into his hair again and pulled his head up.  
“You still want this? Being taken roughly? Like this?” John pushed once and pulled back at the same time. The tendons on Sherlock’s neck were strong and it was such a sight.  
“Talk to me. What do you want? What do you need?” John asked roughly.  
“Harder!” It was the only answer John got and he just started to push into Sherlock. And his voice drove him up the wall. He kept pushing harder and harder until they both screamed and came.  
When John came to, he slowly got up and looked down at his lovers back. He noticed his bruised wrists. His arms were limply by his side and his breathing was shallow. He also noticed he had hairs, long hairs between his fingers. He must have pulled some out.  
He swallowed. Then he felt for his pulse. It was beating but rather weak.  
“Sherlock?” He carefully asked but got no reply. Sherlock was unconscious.  
And only when he knelt up and pulled out very slowly not to hurt him, he saw the blood running out of him together with his cum. His cock also was bloody.  
John was shocked. Only after ten seconds he jumped off the bed. He ran into the bath, grabbed towels and the first-aid kit. He filled a bowl with warm water and started to tenderly clean him. He still didn’t wake. It was probably for the best.  
Only when John was done and the bloody water rushed down the sink he started to cry and shake.  
What had he done?

***

John held him down. He knelt on his crossed wrists and pulled his head up by his hair. He was leaking and he was so hard. He was panting and still asking for more. It had never felt like this and he swallowed against the strain being put on his throat. But how could he know anything? He had never done the real thing before and never with another man but John. He had never wanted another man before. He had never been topped. And this, what they had now, was just perfect. John just knew what was good and best for him.

He heard him spit and then breach him and it was glorious. It hurt and he hissed but he never told him to stop. The feeling of both pain and pleasure was so intense he still tried to sort it out inside his mind palace when John had pushed all the way in.  
Soon he kept pushing and rubbing over his prostate with a pressure he had never felt before. He thought he might just combust.  
He passed out when John had just come inside him.

***

Sherlock woke very slowly. He felt good and relaxed. The mattress was wet but soft. His back and body were cold though. Why was he cold? Where was John? He was too exhausted to formulate a question. He pried his eyes open and found no John. Only then he rolled on his other side and reached out but still no John.  
Only then he heard the sniffling noise coming from the bath. He cleared his throat.  
“Shooann?” He shook his head. He wasn’t able to speak. He only groaned and hissed and swore when he sat up. His behind was on flames but he also was still tingling.  
He again called out and only then John appeared. His eyes were red and his face was blotchy. So, he had been crying.  
“Come here …” Sherlock reached out for him and John slowly approached.  
“Forgive me, please?” John croaked out the words. Sherlock took his hand.  
“What?” John just rubbed over his eyes.  
“I hurt you so much.” But Sherlock shook his head.  
“Why did you cry?” His voice was hoarse.  
“I just told you. I hurt you. Badly. I made you bleed.” He started to sob again.  
“But I just had the strongest orgasm ever!” He pulled him close. John leant against Sherlock and closed his eyes.  
“You can stop being upset now. There is nothing wrong. I hurt, yes, but I am not damaged. It will heal; you will make sure of that.” John nodded with his eyes closed.  
“I already cleaned you.” Sherlock kissed his head.  
“I know. I can feel it.” Sherlock could feel John’s smile against his skin.  
“You may get me a drink though to make me feel better.” John chuckled and looked up.  
“Right away, love.”


	7. Chapter Seven

Mycroft had everything delivered they needed for the baby. Greg had assembled some stuff because he just had to do something. Now both men were staring at the sleeping baby in his crib.  
“This is amazing, isn’t it?” Greg quietly asked and reached out for Mycroft’s hand.  
“I never considered a child. Never before you came into my life.” Mycroft answered and pressed his hand.  
“Don’t you think it’s time to tell by now?” Greg asked.  
“You only want a party and presents.” Greg shrugged.  
“Well, yes, of course I do.” He grinned and Mycroft melted.  
“I am glad we are able to share the first days together.” Mycroft whispered still looking at the baby.  
“Anthea is very capable of taking care of your office. I have so many over-hours; it would be enough until school starts.” Greg slung his arm around Mycroft’s slim waist.  
“We need to find a suitable nanny for him.” Greg looked up at him.  
“Yes. Or I will stop working.” It just came out. Mycroft stilled completely.  
“What?” Mycroft asked and in return provoked a serious smile.  
“Oi, I made you swallow your eloquence. Amazing me!” Mycroft stared into Greg’s eyes.  
“Were you just serious, Gregory?” Greg knew that Mycroft was dead serious. He only called him Gregory under certain circumstances.  
“Actually, I hadn’t planned on anything, hadn’t planned on saying it. It just came out. It seems to be the right thing to do though.” Greg sounded thoughtful staring at the little boy.  
“Sherlock and I had a nanny.” Mycroft said quietly.  
“And?” Greg looked up. Mycroft’s eyes were cold.  
“She was stupid. Sherlock hated her. So did I. We made her go away. Actually, we made every nanny go away after a certain time.” He smiled smugly.  
“But how did it work? I mean who took care of you?” Mycroft leant against the wall.  
“Well, when I was young there still was my mother. Father almost never was home. When mother became older and unfit to entertain me, I looked out for stimulation myself. You wouldn’t believe it, but I found it in cook and the gardener. Both were fantastic people and I loved them.” Mycroft smiled.  
“You loved them. The cook and the gardener.” Greg sounded nonplussed.  
“They provided interesting and new things. Baking became an experiment and gardening was Darwinism.” He shrugged.  
“That’s why you were sent to boarding school so very early, am I right?” Greg asked and Mycroft nodded.  
“Yes, plus the fact that mother somehow managed to get pregnant with Sherlock.” He snorted.  
“He was born during a holiday and I was home. I was seven then and was fascinated by the small human being.” He smiled.  
“You didn’t experiment on him, did you?” Greg looked a bit shocked.  
“Only a little.” Mycroft seriously replied.  
“It might explain a lot though …” Greg smiled and pecked a kiss on his nose.  
“Coming back to the matter at hand. You are telling me you would stay at home to prevent a nanny. Meaning, you would be the nanny?” Greg shrugged.  
“Yes. I mean, one day he calls her mum and she just isn’t. I don’t like it. Instead we should find other babies or toddlers and let them play together.”  
“Play.”  
“Yes, getting dirty in the park. Swimming. Painting on the walls. Holidays. Everything fun.” Mycroft paled.  
“Rosamund is already eating Sherlock’s socks.” He muttered making Greg laugh out loud.  
“See, we can bring them together. They can spend time at our flats and get to know each other.”  
“But Rosamund is already much older. She will show him all the stupid things Sherlock had shown her.”  
“So?” Greg shrugged.  
“We are a wonderful family, Mycroft. Let’s try. We are officially married now and I can take official leave.”  
“OK. But before you make it official you have to find a replacement. Someone who will give Sherlock both cold cases and permission to enter crime scenes.”  
“Is that your only worry?” Greg raised a brow.  
“I don’t want us to worry until it’s too late and he is camping in our living-room.”

***

“We have something wonderful to show you, John. Are you home? We’ll bring take-away and a bottle. Or two.” Greg was calling John who was curious, very much so.  
“Sherlock already assumes a lot but I can’t believe it.”  
“Sherlock never just assumes. He knows. So, what did he tell you?”  
“That you adopted a child and have married without telling us. Now he is pissed. So am I. Make it two bottles and food from Angelo’s. Tonight, at seven. See you.” John hung up. He looked down at Sherlock who was on his back on the hardwood with Rosamund on his chest.  
“So?” He asked and then hissed loudly when she stuck her tiny hands inside his dress-shirt and pulled at the little bit of chest hair he had. John grinned when Sherlock held her up and once shrieked when some hairs came along.  
“You were right, of course. They have been married and adopted a baby. They will come over tonight and tell us sorry. Their eyes met and Sherlock’s were wet. He slowly sat up.  
“It’s good news. Mycroft is a fantastic father. He raised me. It’s not his fault that I turned out wrong.” John knelt by his side.  
“You didn’t turn out wrong, love.”  
“I shot drugs into my transport, John. That’s utterly wrong, isn’t it?” He quietly asked looking at Rosamund.  
“We will do our best. If she ends up an addict, we can’t help it, Sherlock. You wouldn’t be convinced by anyone, too. It’s nobody’s fault, it never is. We can only try to do our best, provide a family, our love and the best we can give.” Sherlock sat up and strained his neck. John went down and kissed him.  
“You are right, as usual, John. I am just so worried sometimes. And I am scared. What if I am doing it wrong? What if I …” He sadly shook his head clinging to Rosamund who at once had her hands in his hair.  
“You are the most wonderful mother-hen of the universe, Sherlock. You outrank even me. There is no need to worry.” Now Sherlock stood and placed Rosamund into John’s arms.  
“She is your daughter when she needs new diapers. I’ll take a shower and set up the table for our guests.” John laughed and smacked his bum when he passed by. Sherlock looked over his shoulder and broadly smiled.

***

But the smile had solely been to calm down John. Under the hot shower even hotter tears fell from Sherlock’s eyes when he remembered his own childhood. His only anchor had always been Mycroft. He only remembered his older brother teaching him important things, showing him stuff, and explaining the world. He had also introduced him to cook and the gardener. Sherlock knew everything Mycroft knew. And Sherlock had loved it. There still were mother and father but they were fading away in a distance. He already deleted the nannies a long time ago.

He didn’t want this to happen to Rosamund. She wasn’t to be lonely and heartbroken at a boarding school in " _god knows where_ ". He needed to pull up memories of Mycroft teaching him. He needed to rearrange his mind palace where everything was stored.

Angrily he rubbed his eyes and turned the water cold. He brushed his teeth and ruffled his hair. Then he dressed up nicely to show off to both John and their visitors. When he came out of the bedroom John just looked at him. On his way into the bath he placed Rosamund into his arms and kissed him tenderly. No words were needed and Sherlock understood perfectly well. He smiled down at John and was very happy.  
He stood when he heard the car. He placed her on the rug and she wasn’t happy about it. He was excited about the boy, he had to admit it. So, he opened the door when he heard them climbing up.  
Mycroft was carrying the baby bouncer that was especially designed for riding in a car. Greg just walked by and gave Sherlock a hug on the way. Sherlock looked at Mycroft and then at the boy. He grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled him inside. Then he looked at him again. They locked eyes for several minutes and didn’t move.  
And only when a smile shone on Sherlock’s face. Mycroft offered to hand the boy over.

Both Greg and John had been watching and so was Rosamund. She was not impressed or even happy. Nobody talked to her or picked her up. She threw a sock but it didn’t impress anyone.  
Finally, she made it on her knees and crawled over to Sherlock and Mycroft. She was rather quick and no one noticed. Sherlock in fact cooed at the baby-boy and Mycroft had a stupid smile plastered on his face. Both men were watched in turn from John and Greg who took a picture each.  
Still nobody noticed little Rosamund who was utterly annoyed. Only when she pulled herself up at Mycroft’s leg to be able to look at the thing, he had brought with him they saw her. She stared at the boy and then at Mycroft. Then she held out another sock but of course got no reaction. Gently Mycroft picked her up.  
“Hallo, love. Meet my son Alexander.” He whispered.  
“Ock?!” She yelled and threw the sock into Alex’ face.  
“Now look at our jealous child, John.” Sherlock said smiling and looked at her. Rosamund didn’t look at him but stared at Alex. She hit him with the sock again but this time the baby grabbed it. She wasn’t amused and pulled it back. Alex started to scream.  
“Now isn’t that the look into a bright future?” Mycroft stated.  
“What’s his full name?” Sherlock asked still being fascinated.  
“Gregory forced me into Alexander Pierre Henry Scott Holmes-Lestrade.” Mycroft replied.  
“So I see. Well, it’s not too bad, isn’t it?” Sherlock stated. By now John and Greg had stepped up.  
“Let me hold him, please?” John asked and Sherlock handed him over.  
“There you are. We only picked him up yesterday.” Greg took Rosamund from Mycroft and she happily turned at him rubbing the sock over his face. Sherlock shoved a drink into Mycroft’s hand and pulled him over to the window.  
“I am still annoyed, you know?” Mycroft nodded.  
“I know, Sherlock, and I am sorry. But you would have made it complicated and it needed to be quick. We will be officially married in a church and invite people. There will be a party and food and dancing. All of this is only happening because Greg wishes for it, of course.”  
“Be quick then, so John and I can follow suit.” Mycroft suddenly pulled his brother into a firm embrace.  
“We are so lucky …” He roughly whispered. Sherlock tightened his grip for about two seconds and then pushed him off.  
“Don’t get snot on my suit. You know how expensive dry-cleaning is. Go away.” But he smiled saying so.

***

John and Greg stood close while John kept holding Alexander.  
“It was quite a surprise.” John said stroking his tummy.  
“Yes, normally it wouldn’t have been possible. But we are talking Mycroft Holmes here. He made it all possible. He even went shopping with me and let me assemble some stuff. Not that he helped. Not a lot anyway. But he was present and he is very, very happy.” Now both men looked at Mycroft and Sherlock.  
“Yes, he is, isn’t he?” John murmured.  
“Heat up dinner?” Greg asked and John nodded. He handed him back to Greg who sat Rosamund back on the ground and leant against the counter. Sherlock joined him after having left his brother behind.  
“It’s my turn again. Give!” He ordered staring at Alex.  
“It’s your bloody turn to pour the wine and offer snacks, Sherlock.” Sherlock murmured a nasty reply but did as being told. Only John got nothing.  
“Let’s place them together on the rug and see what’s going to happen.” Sherlock suggested.  
“This isn’t an experiment. It’s a baby, Sherlock.” Greg said. Sherlock shrugged.  
“No, let’s do it and watch. Rosamund has to learn to deal with him.” Mycroft added.  
“She is way too small for such a thing. Please don’t do it.” Greg insisted very seriously.  
“But why not?” Sherlock asked. John didn’t intervene.  
“Alexander still isn’t able to properly sit up or act in any way. I just don’t like it.” Greg sounded a bit helpless by now.  
“We can place them together on the rug but not while we are having dinner. They have to be supervised.” John finally stated his opinion. Mycroft hummed his approval. Greg smiled at John and Sherlock was annoyed.  
But he quickly changed his mood and carried the new chair for Rosamund inside.  
“See what we got for her! She can sit with us now and doesn’t have to stay on the rug anymore.” He shoved the chair up to the table and then picked her up. He placed her in the seat and she let him. This was new and she liked it. She could watch everything much better than before and she beamed at them.  
John pulled the olive bread out of the oven and sliced it. The basket was placed away from Sherlock and Rosamund.  
“Nothing for her, love.” Sherlock had already reached out and now he looked up.  
“Why not? She likes bread.” He stood but John pulled it away from him.  
“Firstly, because it’s hot. Second it has olives in it and other spices. Her tiny stomach won’t like it and you won’t like her vomiting all through the night.”  
“But she wants it. Just look at her.” Sherlock looked at her face being all disappointed.  
“Yes, she wants it because you started giving it to her. It’s bad bread, Sherlock. It’s white and only for the ducks and us. Not for daily breakfast use and such.”  
“Bread can be bad?” Sherlock just asked but gave up and John sighed.  
“Just please?” Sherlock grumbled a bit but finally nodded.  
“Whatever you wish for, John. But she sits with us and she needs to have something.”  
“I prepared carrots and apples for her. Go get them. They are still by the mixer.” Sherlock stood and Mycroft really was surprised how John handled him. Soon she was sucking on tiny slices of apples and carrots. John had also pureed some and Sherlock handed her a plastic spoon. Everything was rather messy but he had the patience of a saint. He also liked his brother getting dirty. Greg just had a good time and John, too.  
They had their proper pasta and pizza from Angelo and it was splendid. Even Mycroft ate more than he normally did and for once Sherlock didn’t anger him about his diet and such.

It was a wonderful evening and they all ended up on the sofa and on the ground watching the children interact. Rosamund still wanted to give Alexander the sock and he pulled and pulled. He didn’t cry and she didn’t scream. She also tried to touch him everywhere and pulled at his clothes.  
They kept watching them for a good while until Alex fell asleep and Rosamund got bored. She pulled herself up and stood on wobbly legs. She reached out for John and he sat her on his lap.  
“Hallo, my love. Are you tired?” She looked out of big eyes at him sucking on the sock. Then she pressed it on John’s cheek.  
“Ock …” It sounded like a complaint.  
“You quickly need to learn more words, love.” John gently said.  
“Uck!” She replied drooling on the sock.  
“Yes, well, not bad. Anything else?” He laughed while saying so. She stared at him for a few seconds and then said:  
“Da.” All the men stared at her now.  
“What?” John asked.  
“That surely will be the next word she’ll say.” Sherlock looked smug.  
“Da!” She repeated more loudly waving the sock in front of John’s face.  
“Yes, he is your Da and so am I.” Sherlock stood close to John. She looked at him now.  
“Da!” Sherlock beamed.  
“Exactly, my love. That’s my smart girl!” Mycroft raised his brow and Greg grinned. John just smiled lovingly.


	8. Chapter Eight

A few years later John was still working as a doctor and Sherlock still was a consulting detective. But both men had reduced their hours of dedicated work because of Rosamund. Alternately they had taken care of her. They dropped her off at Kindergarten and also picked her up.  
John didn’t want a boarding school but Sherlock insisted on a public school. They had enough money to send her there.

Greg had stopped working altogether. He was working as a consultant, too. They still came to him when he was needed and he had set up office in their home.

Mycroft never stopped working because he was the British government but he had come home earlier and earlier and Anthea had taken over increasingly.

They regularly went on holiday, sometimes all together and sometimes not.

Sherlock’s biggest fear was that some insane criminal would take his child and harm her. They had taken John in the past and now there was a small girl. Sherlock didn’t know what he would have done. But luckily nothing happened.

By the age of five Rosamund spoke several languages and was a skilled chemist. Well, as skilled as you could be when being five. John always wondered how Sherlock had managed that without him knowing.  
Alexander had always followed her around wherever she went from the moment he had started to walk.

Rosamund never lost her love for socks. She also loved honey and bees, just as Sherlock did.

Alexander went to football games with Greg and sat on his shoulders on some afternoon in their local when a match was on. He wore the typical gear as was his father. Mycroft never was seen at such an event but Alex didn’t mind. He understood.

Mycroft though taught him many useful things such as reading people. He also showed him how to manipulate people. He looked through books about everything and nothing with him and explained everything very thorough. He was a damn smart boy and both men loved him dearly.

***

The couples became older and older. The years passed by.

John and Sherlock had moved to the country. Sherlock finally had his bees in several hives behind their house. John had written books about the Afghan war and his time with Sherlock. John wore glasses by now and Sherlock found it utterly sexy. Also, his hair was fully silver grey. Sherlock didn’t need glasses, of course he didn’t. His hair had fine streaks of silver and it looked beautiful.  
Rosamund had grown into a beautiful woman and lived in London.

Mycroft and Greg still lived in Mycroft’s townhouse and Alexander had attended college and everything. He was working for Anthea now who had taken over Mycroft’s office.

They once had hoped that their children would become a couple but actually Alexander turned out to be guy. They were best friends though, just like their parents had always been.


End file.
